Sweet Dreams and Beautiful Nightmares
by TheDayDreamingWriter
Summary: The sequel to 'I Have Got To Be Dreaming' and 'This Isn't A Dream, It's A Nightmare' - Belle and The Riddler meet again, this time facing their enemies together. All of Gotham's worst criminals are after them, plus Batman. And Belle has a decision to make; to stay with Riddler and make Gotham her new home, or go back? But once she goes home, there's no coming back...
1. Chapter 1

I tug the hem of my dress down for the thousandth time. It really isn't that short, but I feel too... exposed. The four inch heels I'm wearing don't help, either. But Mom insisted tonight was a formal occasion, so the dress and shoes are necessary.

Mom is hosting the hospital Christmas party this year, and ordered me to make an appearance. Ever since I moved out of home I don't really see her often enough, so I figured one night of dressing up couldn't hurt.

Of course, I was having very different thoughts now.

The living room is packed full of people I don't know, so I'm standing awkwardly in the corner, trying to find someone I recognise.

"Belle! Hey, I didn't see you come in." A man smiles at me warmly, and pulls me in for a hug.

"Hey Brett. I only just got here. How are you?"

"Good, good. Keeping busy. Your Mom's had me helping her in the kitchen for the last two days." He laughs. Brett is Mom's new boyfriend. Not really new anymore, I guess. They've been together for eleven or so months now. He's a doctor in the children's ward at the hospital and he's pretty cool.

"She would have been panicking about this for weeks now I bet."

"You know your Mom." He sighs, smiling.

"Speaking of, where is she?" I ask, looking through the crowd again.

"She's mingling in there somewhere. I think I saw her with some people over by the fireplace earlier."

"Right. I'll go see if I can find her then." I make my way through the crowd, only stepping on two people's feet when they wouldn't move. Eventually I spot Mom chatting with a young blonde woman.

"Hey!" I greet her.

"Belle! You made it!" She gives me a big hug. "Sweetie I want you to meet my friend from work, Harleen. She's a psychiatrist. " I look over to the blonde woman standing next to Mom and almost faint.

It's Harley freakin' Quinn.

"Belle, is it? Nice to meet you." She says, holding out her hand. "Call me Harley, everyone does."

"Nice to meet you." I say stiffly. I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Harley can't be here, can she?

"I'll leave you two alone for a moment, I think Brett needs help over there." She says and I look over to see Brett struggling with a tray of drinks. I wait for Mom to get out of earshot before turning back to Harley.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demand.

"Just come for the party, like everyone else." She shrugs.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Why are you in my house?"

"Didn't you hear? I'm friends with your mama now." She smirks.

"You need to leave. Get out. And whatever you're planning, it stops." I say, trying my best to sound threatening. Harley just laughs.

"Not so scary without Riddler to back you up, are you?" She smiles. "I think I might stick around for a while."

"Harley I swear to God, _leave_. Or I'll make you leave."

"Oh, you'll make me?"

"Yep. Just like I made Joker leave." Harley's eyes narrow and she sneers at me. I take a step back. That might have been over the line.

"I'll leave. After I pay you back." She says.

"Pay me back?"

"You killed someone I love, so I'm gonna kill _everyone_ you love." She snarls. Before I can think of a response she stalks away.

This is not good. This is _so_ not good.

I've pissed off Harley Quinn. Again.

I remember seeing her the first time, following her, but then Riddler showed up, and things happened, and I somehow forgot all about Harley. Until tonight.

I hurry off to find Mom and Brett. I'm just starting to panic when I spot them in the kitchen. For the rest of the evening I watch them like a hawk. Anytime Harley comes near them I rush over to keep an eye on things.

By the end of the evening I'm exhausted, but I don't leave until Harley does.

She does eventually leave. All smiles at Mom and Brett and glares at me. I smile at her, sickly sweet, just to annoy her more, which is probably not the best idea, but I'm petty like that.

"Thank you so much for coming tonight honey." Mom says, kissing me on the cheek.

"No problem Mom." I smile, giving her a hug, then Brett. "I'll talk to you guys tomorrow." I promise before heading out to my car.

I drive home, checking my mirrors for Harley the whole time. I may be acting overly paranoid, but with these crazy video game villains, you can't be too careful. I get home and unlock the front door, stepping inside.

I moved out of home eight or so months ago. Brett had just moved in and I decided he and Mom needed their own space. I now live in a shoddy one bedroom, one bathroom unit in the suburb that boasts the highest crime rate in the city.

As a result, I also carry pepper spray and a small knife in my back pocket when I have to walk anywhere. And I'm getting pretty damn good at my self defence classes I started taking, too.

I realise that the phrase 'closing the barn door after the horses have escaped' may come to mind. And that it may seem kind of stupid to learn how to protect myself _after_ all the crazy things have happened, but what can I say. It makes me feel better knowing I'm able to knock a grown man out cold, just in case I ever have to again.

Not that I need to know how to defend myself much anymore. The closest I've got to a fight in the last two years is that time I was almost mugged while I was out jogging.

Other than that, the last couple of years have been almost totally uneventful.

I mean, I'm twenty now, I've graduated high school, started college, moved out of home and got a job, my driver's license and a normal, boring life.

Until Harley showed up, of course.

I have to do something about her, sooner rather than later. I don't doubt for a second that she would hurt Mom or Brett. She was never the most sane person, but after losing Joker, she's gone even more loopy.

I don't particularly feel like studying, so I ignore the pile of textbooks for my Game Design class and turn on the TV, surfing through the channels until I find a movie that looks interesting.

Of course, I can't concentrate on it.

How did Harley manage to survive here for so long without anyone noticing she wasn't real? I mean, she wouldn't have any ID, any money, and no proof of who she is.  
I groan out loud.

It's easy to forget that Harley's actually pretty clever. I mean, she _was_ a psychiatrist at one point. She probably didn't have much trouble recreating an identity for herself.

But she definitely can't stay here. She has to go. I go to bed, planning on finding and confronting her in the morning.

I wake up at six and push snooze on my alarm. Normally I would get straight up and start getting ready for a day of classes, but today I think I'll skip them. Having a crazy person hell bent on revenge after me puts things into perspective, and class doesn't seem so important anymore.

I text Mom to ask if she's working today. She replies almost immediately, saying she is.  
My best bet on finding Harley is looking for her at the hospital, but I'd rather not have to confront her with Mom somewhere in the building.

I'm torn for a moment between keeping Mom far away from all this and finishing it all.  
In the end though, my desire for this to all be over wins out.

I open the top drawer of my dresser and reach towards the back until I feel what I'm looking for and pull out a small black revolver.

It's not exactly top of the range but I can shoot it and it gets the job done.

I bought it about twelve months ago off the homeless guy who lives on my street. I'm not sure what his actual name is, but everyone just calls him The General.

He used to be in the military when he was younger but when he came home he kind of fell into a bottle of whiskey and never found his way back out. The General is actually pretty cool once you get to know him. He even took me out to the industrial district and taught me how to shoot and how to disarm someone with a gun.

He sits out the front of an apartment building just down from my unit, and I bring him food sometimes and he tells me stories. Things about his time in the military, and other stories of things he's seen but can't explain.

That was why I ended up telling him about Riddler. The whole story.  
He called me crazy for a little while until I finally convinced him.

"You know, I once met a man who swore he woke up in the book he was reading." The General told me.

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I was in Russia, talking with some locals, and we got to talking about the paranormal. That was when this guy spoke up. Swore up and down that he woke up one day and was having conversations with the characters in his book. Then he tells us he _died_ , and was home."

"That's exactly what happened to me!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, complete with the bad guys coming home with him."

"So... I'm not the first person this has happened to."

"Not by far. Because then other people spoke up about hearing the same thing happening to a friend of a friend of a cousin."

From then on I was able to talk to him about everything, so I knew I had to talk to him today. I shoved the gun in the waistband of my jeans and pulled my shirt down low enough to cover it. When I get outside, I see the General sitting in his usual spot down the street, so I hurry down to see him.

"Morning Belle." He greets me. "You're out early today."

"Yeah. I have a bit of a situation." I tell him.

"What's wrong? Anything I can help with?" He asks, taking a swig from a bottle in the brown paper bag he's holding.

"Not really. It's Harley. She's here."

"Harley. Is that the clown woman?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"I thought you got rid of everyone." He says, looking concerned.

"I thought so too. But I totally forgot about Harley. We saw her, but I never even thought of her again."

"You want back up?" He offers. I glance at the brown bag in his hand, and I can smell the alcohol from where I'm standing.

"I don't think so. But thanks."

"Just remember what I taught you. Good luck, kid." He says affectionately.

"Thanks." I smile back, giving him a quick salute. He winks and I head back to my car. It's almost seven now, so Mum, and hopefully Harley, will be getting to work around now.

I get into the car and head to the hospital, parking in a somewhat secluded area behind a garden. And wait.

I see Mum's little blue Beetle drive in and park and watch her walk across the parking lot and inside. Minutes later a white sedan drives in and parks. I watch closely and sure enough, Harley gets out.

I whistle loudly and it catches her attention. I can see her looking around until she spots me and heads over.  
I brace myself, trying to breathe through the nerves. This is it.

"What do you want?" Harley asks, looking impatient. "I gotta job to do."

"I want you to leave my mother alone." I say, giving her one last chance to give it up and do this the easy way.

"Not likely." She snorts. "I owe you." Right. The hard way it is.

In one swift movement I pull my gun out of my jeans, cock it and aim at Harley. I'm rewarded with a look of surprise on her face. She obviously wasn't expecting me to actually face up.

"Looks like Nigma taught you something after all." She says, studying me. I barely have time to think of a comeback before she kicks out at my outstretched hand, showing off her gymnastic skills.

Thanks to the General's training though, I'm kind of ready for it. I move my hand enough that I'm not disarmed, but not enough to avoid contact completely. She connects with my forearm, leaving it aching.

"Not quick enough." Harley sing-songs, coming at me for another attack. I jump out of the way and spin around quickly, taking aim at her again.

I shoot and miss by an inch. She laughs and kicks out at me, landing me in the shoulder. I stumble backwards before I find my balance again.

I need to finish this, now. Someone will have heard that shot, and we're fighting in front of a hospital full of people, meaning someone will come to investigate.

She tries to hit me, I block her and retaliate, punching her in the nose. She steps backwards, blinking, stunned for a short second.

It's all the time I need. I lift the gun, aim and fire. I see the red stain blossom on her white nurses blouse and vaguely notice that my aim was straight on.

She's dead before she hits the ground.

It's been two and a half years since I last saw Riddler, and I've had plenty of time to think about whether I should have gone back with him. But I still don't have an answer.  
On one hand, I can't just leave my Mom here. She has Brett now, but I still can't leave her.  
But then again, how can I ever be content with life after everything that's happened? Starting college, moving out of home and being independent are things that normal people would find exciting, but after everything I've been through it all seems kind of tame.

I stare at Harley on the ground, weighing my options. To stay or to go?

Before I can answer myself, or process what I'm doing, I reach down and grab Harley's hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Between one blink and the next, I've moved. I was in the hospital car park with Harley, now I'm in an alley alone. At least this time I'm wearing jeans, rather than my pyjamas like last time.

I quietly walk down the alley, towards the street, breathing in the cold air. I don't fight the smile on my face. I'm back in Gotham. It just feels so _right._

I reach the street and look up and down it, trying to get some sense of direction.

I have no idea where I am. Crap.

No matter, I'll just walk until I see something familiar. I take a right and stroll down the street, taking in the scenery around me. There's still snow and ice on the ground, but not as much as when I was here last. So if I'm right, it must be sometime after Arkham City. I'd heard that there was a new game coming out, but I don't really know much about it.

My next question is how much time has passed here? I remember time moved strangely when I was here last, so I can't even guess how long it's been. It could be days or months or years. I study my surroundings, trying to get a clue as to the time frame.

Okay, first clue: It looks like some of the closed down stores have reopened. There's barely any graffiti and no broken windows anywhere, so someone must have cleaned up.  
Which makes me wonder, why bother opening a business in a super prison? Unless...

I look around, and the lack of security cameras confirms my suspicions. This isn't a prison anymore. It's part of Gotham again. A place where normal, law abiding citizens can come and go freely.

After a few more minutes of walking, a familiar building looms at the end of the street. The courthouse! I break into a run with renewed energy, racing up the front steps and up to the door.

"Can I help you?" A voice to my left asks, making me jump in surprise. A security guard is standing there, watching me suspiciously.

"Uh, yes. Can you tell me what day it is?" I ask, out of breath from my run here.

"Wednesday." He answers, looking at me like I've lost my mind.

"No, like the date. What year is it?"

"Lady, what kinda drugs have you been taking that you're so out of it you don't even know what year it is?" He asks.

"Just humour me."

"It's October 14th, 2015." He answers. "Now, do you need me to call someone for you? Someone to come take you home?"

"No thanks. Do you have the time?" October 14th. Same date as it was back home. So that means it's been just as long here as it has for me.

"It's almost two in the morning. Do you want me to call a cab at least?" He asks, looking a little concerned.

"No money." I shrug, because it's true. I've got nothing, not even my gun. It's still in the hospital parking lot back home.

"There's a shelter two blocks that way." He says, pointing down the street to his left. "You can probably find a bed there for the night."

"Thanks." I head off in the direction he pointed. A shelter doesn't sound like such a bad idea. I'm not going to have much luck finding anything in the middle of the night.  
Sure enough, I find a small building where the guard said I would. I walk inside and see an elderly man is sitting at a desk near the door, dozing lightly. I clear my throat, waking him.

"Sorry about that, just resting my eyes a little. Did you need a bed?"

"Yeah, that would be great." I smile, which he returns warmly.

"No problem, dear. I'll just ask you to sign in and we'll find you a bed." He hands me a clipboard and I fill out my name before handing it back to him. He leads me through a doorway, into the dining room then into a room lined with small shabby looking beds. Only about half of them are occupied.

"Here we are. Pick whichever bed you like. Some ladies from the church will bring some food around at about nine in the morning if you'd like some. Sleep well."

"Thank you." I say gratefully. I choose a bed in the corner of the room and curl up under the blankets. It's not very comfy, but it's warmer than outside, so I'm happy.  
I try to will myself to sleep, but it's not use. I'm wide awake, running on adrenaline. I'm back in Gotham!

I need a plan of attack for the morning though. I'll stick around here for breakfast, because hey, free food! Then I'll have to try and find out what's happening. Is Batman still here? What about Scarecrow and Zsasz and all the other rogues? And of course, Riddler.

The million dollar question – Where is Riddler? It's been years, and I have no idea where to even start looking for him. Chances are he's not in prison, he's never locked up for long. But I don't know how I'm going to find him.  
Maybe Batman is my best bet. If he's still around here somewhere, he'll have some idea where to find Edward, surely.  
And then there's Harley. I don't think she's just going to leave me alone once she finds out I'm here again. She's pissed and looking for payback, and I'm going to have to face her at some point.

I can see the first tinges of light streaming into the room through the holes in the ratty curtains, and yawn involuntarily.  
Might as well get a couple hours of sleep before I get going again. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

"Hey. Hey, lady."

My eyes fly open and I sit up, starling the old man who helped me last night.

"Sorry to scare you dear, I just thought you might like some breakfast. The church van just arrived. They have oatmeal." He says enticingly, smiling at me.

"Sure. Oatmeal sounds good. I'll be out in a moment." I reply and he shuffles off.  
I take a moment to adjust to my surroundings. Still in Gotham? Check. Still in the homeless shelter? Check. Still have no idea how to find Riddler? Check.

I slowly make my way into the dining room we passed through last night.  
Half a dozen well dressed women are serving up bowls of warm oatmeal, fresh fruit, and cereals. I make a beeline for the lady with the oatmeal.

"Good morning." She smiles politely. "Would you like some oatmeal?"

"I would love some, thanks." I watch as she spoons some into a bowl for me.

"Spoons are just down the end of the table there." She points. I follow her direction and take one, then I'm faced with a challenge. Where to sit.

Instinct says to choose an empty table, eat my breakfast and leave. But the other dozen people who slept here are all sitting together at a large table, so I take a deep breath and walk over to them.

"Room for one more?" I ask.

"Of course. Take a seat." The man nearest to me says, gesturing to an empty spot. I sit down ungracefully and nod at him in thanks.

"So most of us know each other, but I don't think I've ever seen you here before." Says a man sitting across from me. He's maybe late forties, slim with greying hair. "Where do you come from?"

I think about my answer for a moment before replying. "I'm from out of town. Haven't been to Gotham for a few years." That gives me an idea. "Maybe you guys can fill me in on what I've missed?"

"Have you been living under a rock?" Asks one woman. She's older than me, scary skinny and has long black hair. "Gotham's always on the news. What could you have missed?"

"Well... Batman. Is he still here?" I ask in between mouthfuls of oatmeal. It's probably not the most subtle way to get information, but it is the fastest.

"Ha! You have been out of it!" She barks.

"Just where did you say you were from?" Another man asks, looking at me suspiciously.

"Out of town. Really, _really_ far out of town."

"Yeah, the Batman's still around." The man next to me answers. "Sort of." I give him a questioning look, and he continues. "He's not really needed anymore. Crime rate is down, way down. Everyone's scared of him, ever since he killed the Joker a few years back."

"Since he killed- Batman didn't _kill_ the Joker! He tried to save him!" I exclaim. People don't really think that, do they?

"Oh yeah, he tried to _save_ his arch enemy. The madman who tried to poison Gotham, and Batman tried to _save_ him. Right." The woman laughs. Okay, so apparently people _do_ really think that.

"But Batman doesn't kill people!" I insist.

"Well apparently, now he does. What's it matter anyway? Only good Joker is a dead Joker, if you ask me." Says an old man. Personally, I have to agree with him, but I keep that to myself.

"Well, what happened here? Last time I was in Gotham, this was Arkham City."

"Oh that. Turns out the Doc running it was crazier than Joker. He jumped off the tower and the prison went bust. They shut it down and reclaimed it for the city. It's mostly up and running now, except that part around the tower. It's still all off limits. They say it's structurally unsound, but I dunno. Can't trust the government these days."

"What about the inmates?" I ask, getting to the point of my questioning.

"All the ones they could catch were rounded up and taken to Blackgate." The man next to me says.

"And who _didn't_ they catch?"

"Almost all the big ones got away." The woman says, shaking her head. "But luckily, we haven't heard from them. Probably in hiding, scared of the Batman."

"So, Scarecrow?"

"MIA." A man says.

"Killer Croc?"

"Last I heard, he was back in the sewers." Someone else answers.

"And Riddler?"

"No idea." The old man says, and everyone shrugs. No one knows about Riddler. I sit in silence for a moment. I need to plan out my next move. A half formed idea comes to mind, and I jump on it.

"Well, great to meet all of you, but I better go." I say, standing up. "Places to go, people to see, all that jazz."

"You stay away from Batman." Says the old man as I walk away. "He's dangerous."

"Duly noted." I nod at him and continue on my way. Even if they don't believe me, I know Batman didn't kill Joker, he tried to save him. And I know he wouldn't kill anyone else.  
But all the same, I want to find Riddler.

I step outside and take in my surroundings. Shops are open, people are walking around and cars are driving past. I never saw Gotham like this when I was here.  
If my memory is right, this is Park Row. Which means I'm kind of close to Riddler's hideout. My idea was to go there first and see if there're any clues as to where he is now. My only problem is getting there. I can't get a cab or a bus seeing as I have no money.  
So I guess I'm walking. It'll take a while, but I've walked through this area when it was still crawling with thugs and criminals.

How hard could it be?

* * *

 **A/N:** This is very late, I know!


	3. Chapter 3

Not hard, but boring as hell. And kind of cold. But after nearly two hours, I've made it.  
The first bad sign is that the door is unlocked. The second bad sign is that all his computers are gone, except one.  
"Edward?" I call out in vain. "Are you here?"  
No answer. Not that I was really expecting one.

I take a quick look around, finding it all empty except for the lone computer. I sigh. I guess I start with that.  
I press the on button and wait while it boots up. No sooner did the screen come to life than a booming voice filled the room.

"I don't know or care who you are, but you shouldn't be here. Leave now and there will be no consequences. Stay, and I can't promise the same."

My heart leaps. I'd know that voice anywhere. I spin around, looking for the speaker, and my heart takes a nose dive as I see not him in person, but his image projected on the wall.

"Edward!" I shout, grinning widely. "I'm here!" I wave at him, but the image remains impassive. "Hey!" No reaction. Okay. Either he can't see or hear the room, or his video is pre-recorded.

I turn back to the computer and see a login screen, asking for a password.

"Crap." I can't even guess at what he would have made the password. It could be anything.

 _Riddler._ I type and hit enter.

 _PASSWORD INCORRECT._ Flashes at me on the screen.

"Only two more tries." Riddler's voice singsongs.

I look at the computer, thinking about the password. Something more personal maybe?

 _Edward Nigma._

 _PASSWORD INCORRECT._ Damn it!

"Let me put it this way. The only way you're going to get that password is if I want you to find me. So give up now."

I frown up at the giant Riddler on the wall. Why the hell did he have to make this so hard? And if I get it wrong, how am I ever going to find him?  
That gives me an idea.  
He _would_ want me to find him. If he thought I'd ever make it back to Gotham, he'd want to be found, but only by me. Maybe my last guess wasn't personal _enough._

I turn back to the screen, say a little prayer for luck, and type.

 _Belle Mitchell._

 _PASSWORD CORRECT. ACCESS GRANTED._

I beam at the computer. I'm in! Before I can click anything, a screen pops up, showing a blurry video of a dark room. I turn up the audio and listen carefully. I can hear something off camera, someone shuffling around.

"Um, hello?" I say, feeling a little stupid. Can they even hear me?  
My question is answered when I hear something being dropped to the ground and someone barges onto the screen, peering back at me.

"Who's there?" My heart freezes. It's him.

"Edward? Is that you? Can you hear me?"

"Who's there? How did you get into that computer?" He demands, squinting at the screen.

"It's me you idiot. Where are you?"

"Belle? You're here? How are you here?" He asks, looking shocked.

"It's kind of a long story, and I would love to tell it to you. So where the hell are you?" I ask again, my face already sore from smiling too widely.

"Stay there. I'll come to you."

"Sure. How far away are you?"

"I won't be long. Just _stay there_." He insists. Jeeze.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be here." I answer and he nods, satisfied, before the video connection goes dead.

I look around the room and sigh. Now, I wait.

I look around the place again, but after that, there's not much else to do.

After 20 minutes, I'm bored. There's nothing else in the place except for the computer, which is completely blank. So I'm sitting next to it on the desk, twiddling my thumbs.

What is taking Riddler so long?

I've almost made up my mind to leave him a note and go explore Gotham a bit when I hear movement outside. Finally!

"Well you took your time!" I shout. No reply. "Hey! Edward?" I try again, but still no voice contact. I march over to the door to see what's taking him so long and next thing I know, its lights out.

?

I wake up with a wicked headache.

Groaning, I try and sit up. I'm groggy and I feel like I've been hit by a bus. Not a pleasant way to wake up. I blink sleep out of my eyes and take in my surroundings.

Not helpful. Nothing recognisable.

I'm in a small room, maybe a storage cupboard. No windows, completely empty, with a mean looking lock on the door. There goes any hope of a quick escape.

From wherever the hell I am.

I stand up slowly, brushing myself off. Wherever I am, it's filthy. There's dust and dirt all over the floor, and the room smells musty, covering another strange smell. I walk over to the door and try it, just in case.

Locked.

"Hey! Who's out there?" I shout, banging my fist against the door. "Edward? If that's you out there, we _really_ need to have a talk about appropriate reactions when greeting your girlfriend! For example; this? _Not appropriate!_ " I scream.

Even as I'm saying it, I know the chances aren't good that it's Riddler who bought me here. This isn't his style.

"Come on! Who the hell is out there?" I shout, getting desperate. Maybe no one is out there. Maybe no one is even coming back for me. I might _die_ in a supply cupboard, alone.  
That's when I hear it.  
A weird, slow, almost mechanical breathing coming from the other side of the door. I strain my ears, but that's all I can hear over my own heartbeat and ragged breaths.

Who makes that noise? "I can hear you breathing, you creep!"

The person on the other side makes no sign that they hear me. I try and calm myself, breathing deeply and slowly. I press my ear to the door and listen again.  
More sounds this time. There's the weird breathing, but I can also hear glasses clinking gently. Is the guy making a cup of tea?

I take another deep breath and the strange smell hits me again. I frown. It's actually kind of... familiar.

I keep deep breathing, trying to remember where I know that smell from. It's sharp and unpleasant, like... like chemicals.

Suddenly it clicks. Chemical smell, someone breathing as if through a _mask_ , and glasses clinking. He's not making tea, he's mixing chemicals.

"Scarecrow!" I shout. "I know it's you out there you nut job! Let me out!" I pause and hear footsteps, coming closer.

"Quiet. Or I'll test my new batch of toxin on _you_."

 _Damn._ I had really wanted to be wrong. I can think of a lot of people I'd rather be held hostage by.

"What's going on? Why am I here?" I shout through the door, knowing I'm pushing my luck.

But I get no answer, and Crane goes back to clinking glasses and breathing creepily. I lean against the wall and slide down until I'm sitting on the floor. This is bad. This is really bad.

"Why me?" I shout again, half directed towards Crane, half to the universe. Why did this crap always happen to me?

"This isn't about _you_ , you stupid girl." Scarecrow rasps through the door. "This is about _me_ , and revenge. I owe Nigma, and you happen to be the best way I can get to him. You're nothing but a pawn."

"Way to make a girl feel special." I shoot back at him. "How do even know this will work? It's been ages since I last saw Edward! He might not even care about me anymore." I say, mostly to try and get Scarecrow to let me go, but partly because it felt good to say it out loud. It _had_ been a while since I saw Edward. What if he really didn't care?

"That's a chance I'm willing to take." Is the only reply I get.

That feels like the end of the conversation, so I go back to sitting on the floor, trying to figure out my best plan of attack. After a few minutes of thinking furiously, I'm still coming up empty. And I need to pee.

"Hey, Crane! You gotta let me out, I need to use the bathroom." I yell at him, feeling only mildly embarrassed.

"Hold it. I'm sure Nigma will be coming for you soon enough."

"Come on, I need to go now. Be a decent person will you?" I beg.

"Be quiet."

"Look, you've got me alright? I'm trapped. I'm not going anywhere. But right now, I really need to go." There's a pause, then I hear a loud sigh.

"Fine. But if you try anything, you _will_ regret it. Trust me."

"I trust you. Now let me out." There's the jingling of keys and suddenly the door swings open, to reveal Scarecrow, just as terrifying as I remember him.

"You have sixty seconds. Any longer and..." He trails off, letting his threat go unfinished. I nod, showing my understanding. He stares me down for a moment longer before leading me out my small prison and down to a dirty bathroom. I walk in and shut the door behind me and get to work immediately.

There's a small window three quarters up the wall that I think I could fit out of, if only I can break the glass. I look back at the door, gather my courage, and pull off my jacket. I climb up on the dirty porcelain sink below the window so the glass is at shoulder height. I wrap the jacket around my hand, making a fist and punch as hard as I can. It shatters immediately, glass falling down around my legs.

I'm brushing the remaining shards out of the window when the door bursts open and Scarecrow comes running in. I leap, throwing myself out the window, heart pounding. I land, half in and half out of the window, with broken glass tearing at my exposed skin and clothes.

I almost make it.

I'm trying to wiggle my way through when a hand clamps down on my ankle, pulling me back.

"No!" I shout desperately, kicking as hard as possible trying to get free.

"I warned you." Scarecrow hisses. "I warned you, and now you'll pay."

The last time I had a taste of Scarecrow's toxin replays through my mind. No way did I want to go through that again. With a renewed sense of purpose, I kick at him viciously, hitting him square in the nose. The shock is enough to make him loosen his hold on me a tiny bit, but it's all I need. I wrench my leg free and wiggle my way through the window to freedom. I jump up and start sprinting as fast as I can, in no particular direction, my only thought to put as much space between us as I can. I leave Scarecrow screaming and cursing behind me.

I run and run until I can't breathe and I have a stitch in my side that feels like knives. I duck into a darkened ally and lean over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath and not throw up. Adrenaline and fear mixes in my system, making my head spin but my only thought is Edward. I have to find Edward.

As soon as my lungs are under control and puking isn't as likely, I take a quick assessment of my injuries. A few cuts and scrapes from climbing through the broken window, and definitely some bruises that'll show in a day or two. Only two cuts are a bit deep, but I can deal with them later. I tentatively head back to the mouth of the ally, looking up and down the street beyond for any signs of homicidal hostage takers. Once I'm positive the coast is clear, I set out at a slow jog, looking for a pay phone.

Two blocks later, I hit pay dirt. Only problem is, I don't have any coins. I dial Edward's number, which is committed to memory, and listen to it ring out. I dial again, knowing that even if he answers, the call won't connect properly and he won't be able to hear me. Again it rings out. I dial again, and again, and again. After the sixth time, I pause, waiting. I laugh in relief when the pay phone begins to ring. This is exactly what I'd hoped he'd do. I pick it up, but he speaks before I get a chance to.

"How did you get this number?" He demands, sounding exactly like the bossy Edward I know.

"It's me! It's Belle." I exclaim.

"Belle?" His voice immediately loses its harsh edge and becomes warmer. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright. Where are you?"

"Well I was on my way to get you... but I'm assuming you're no longer with Crane?"

"You assume correctly." I grin.

"Poor fool obviously didn't know what a difficult hostage you make." He says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"I know, I'm terrible. And lost. I have no idea where I am." I admit.

"Stay there. I'll come and get you." He says and hangs up. No doubt he's already traced the call or something and knows exactly where I am. I'm not sure whether to be creeped out or pleased.

For the moment though, if it gets me the hell away from Scarecrow, I'll be freaking delighted with his stalking tendencies.  
And of course, I'm more than a little excited to see Edward. And more than a little nervous. I mean, it's been years since I last saw him. I know I've changed, but has he? I'm a little taller, I've cut my hair a bit shorter, and thanks to my jogging and self defence classes, I've developed some muscle tone. It's not much, and doesn't make me look particularly threatening, but it's there.  
By the time a dark car pulls up to the curb, my anxiety is through the roof and puking is back on the list of possibilities. But the moment the driver's door opens and Riddler steps out, my body relaxes. My feet move without conscious command, and suddenly I'm in his arms.  
He hugs me so tight it almost hurts, and yet it's not tight enough. Scarecrow, Harley and Gotham all fall away for a few perfect seconds.  
And then he pulls away.

"Belle, how did you get here?" He asks seriously. "You should be home."  
My heart drops to my stomach. He doesn't want me here.

"Harley." I choke out eventually. "We forgot Harley. She was there, and threatening my mom, and I shot her, and I just..." I trail off. He stays quiet for a moment, studying me.

"Alright. Get in, we'll get you cleaned up and figure out the situation."  
I climb into the car dejectedly. I'm a situation that needs to be figured out. He really _didn't_ want me here.  
We drive for about twenty minutes. I stare out the window the whole time without really seeing anything, lost in my own depressing thoughts until we stop in front of a large apartment complex.  
"Where are we?" I ask, looking at the upscale building in confusion.

"A safe house. I keep an apartment on the twelfth floor." He explains. But that's all he says.  
We ride the elevator up in silence and enter the apartment.  
It's similar to the house he had, back on my street, but very different at the same time. Decorated in dark woods and leather, open floor plan and a computer in the corner that looks like it could control the Mars Rover.

"Nice place." I comment, because I'm not sure what else to say. Riddler gestures to the couch a few feet away, so I walk over and drop into it. He walks out of the room for a moment and comes back with a first aid kit. He quietly and efficiently works on my wounds, disinfecting and bandaging. He tidies up the deep cut on my leg, but pauses when he gets to the one on my stomach.  
"This will need stitches." He looks up at me.  
"You do it." I say without hesitation. No way could I do it myself, and I'm not going to a hospital. He simply nods and pulls out a needle and sterile thread from the kit.  
"This will hurt." He warns, and begins. He's right. I hiss in pain as the needle pierces my skin, and the thread pulls through. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip, focusing on breathing until he finishes a few moments later. A plaster goes over the top of the wound and it's finished. Sore, but finished. I wince as I readjust my position, putting pressure on the cut. Riddler washes up and puts the first aid kit away, then sits in the arm chair opposite me.

"Now tell me, from the top. How are you here?"  
I explain again, in detail about finding Harley at my Mom's house, her thinly veiled threats, and the confrontation in the parking lot.

"I only thought of Harley again when I got back here." He admits. "With no way to contact you... I hoped you'd remember quickly."

"Probably wouldn't have forgotten her in the first place, if someone didn't distract me when I was following her." I mumble, glancing up at him. The corners of his mouth twitch up.

"We were undercover. I was being thorough." He says, developing a full on smirk.

"A likely excuse." I quip. But my heart is starting to race. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he is glad I'm here after all. I smile a little at him.

"Belle..." He starts, the smile disappearing.

"Oh crap. I was right, you don't want me here." I can literally feel my heart sink into my stomach and my face turning red. "Wow. Okay, I totally read that wrong. Sorry." I'm thinking that I might actually die of embarrassment and just end up back home.

"That's not what I meant." He says quickly. "I'm happy you're here, I am." He sounds so earnest I almost believe it. "But things are a little... different here now. You'd probably be safer at home with Harley."

"What's new? Last time I was here, this place was a super prison. If I can handle all those thugs, I can handle Gotham the city."

"That's not what I meant. Whe-"

"I can handle myself!" I interrupt him. "I faced Harley on my own, didn't I?"

"If you'd listen, I could finish explaining." He says, sounding like his old demanding self. I shrug, motioning him to go on. "When I arrived back in Gotham, the rest of our _friends_ weren't exactly thrilled to see me. Apparently they took me helping to kill them quite personally." He says. I take a moment to think it over.

"So what you're saying is... you're a target. That's why Crane took me. To get back at you for helping Batman kill him."

"Precisely."

"Well you weren't exactly Mr. Popular before, so why does it matter so much now?" I ask, frowning.

"Before, I was on the same side as the others. A higher level of brilliance in my plans, but the same side. Now, aside from the Bat, I'm the most hated person from Arkham."  
Okay. This is not good news.

"And you're staying in a very attackable sky rise apartment why?" I ask, gesturing around. "This isn't exactly laying low, Nigma."

"I have multiple safe houses around the city. All under different names, all far too well hidden for the likes of Crane or Zsasz to find me." He grins, sounding superior.

"So, you don't wish I'd never shown up?" I ask quietly, finally giving voice to my fear.

"Not at all." He assures me, getting up from the armchair and helping me to my feet. "There was a reason I left that computer in my old safe house." He pulls me towards him, into a tight hug. While I can't say I'm glad you're in Gotham, I am happy to see you." It's probably the most sentimental thing I've ever heard him say. My stomach is full of crazy butterflies, and I'm back on top of the world.

"How long were you planning on staying, exactly?" He asks, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other under my chin, tilting my face up to his.

"Well, when I went home last time, almost no time had passed. So no one will actually notice me missing..." I say, getting distracted by just how close his face is. "So I guess I could stay for a while. At least until you're sick of me."

"That might be a while." He threatens in a low voice.

"I might be okay with that." I get out before he closes the gap between us, kissing me fiercely. I return the kiss with just as much force, allowing myself to feel relieved that he still wants me, that this wasn't totally one sided. For that moment, I ignore all the problems being in Gotham bought, and let myself feel happy.

* * *

 **A/N:** And I'm back! And owe an explanation. So, I've been holding off and waiting on this story because it was originally going to follow the events of Arkham Knight. But sadly, I do not have a next gen console. And saving for one is taking for-freaking-ever. So rather than make you guys wait until I can buy a console, play the game, and write the story, I've decided to ignore Arkham Knight's story line. Meaning this fic will go ahead, and I will be sad because I can't play the new game.  
Hope you all enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

I sat while Edward filled me in on everything I'd missed. Aside from him being the most hated person after Batman, and Arkham City being closed and turned back into a part of Gotham, I was pretty much up to date.

"I heard that crime rates are down, and Batman's kind of unnecessary these days. You on holiday or something?" I joke.

"No one plans a heist publicly." Riddler quips. "Some of the rogues really think Batman killed Joker back in the theatre, so they're laying low. Dent and Cobblepot mainly, but Ivy still isn't convinced the Bat didn't do it."

"It's probably not the worst thing to have them scared of him." I say. "But I don't like the idea of the rest of the citizens of Gotham thinking he's capable of that. He's meant to stand for something, you know? Like, he's there to prove you don't have to sink to their level to get things done in this city." I stop when I see Riddler smirk.

"Very idealistic, aren't we?"

"Don't start with me, Edward. I'm not going to argue with you about this again."

"I'm not starting anything. I just find it amusing that you put the Dark Knight on such a high pedestal. He's only human. How will you feel when he makes a mistake, or doesn't live up to your standards?"

"I'm not answering that." I scowl at him, only making him grin wider. "Back to the problem at hand. What are you going to do about Scarecrow? He's not exactly the type to forgive and forget. He's going to try again."

"He will." His face turned thoughtful. "I have some ideas on how to deal with him, but I'll wait for him to make a move first. See what I'm up against, as it were."

I looked past him, out the enormous windows, to see the sun setting over the city. I still can't believe I'm back in Gotham. And as horrible as it sounds, I'm completely content. I don't miss home at all. I don't miss my apartment, my classes, or my few friends. I _do_ feel a pang when I think of Mom, but I'm comforted to know she has Brett now. She's happier than she's been in years, she loves her job, and I'm not worried about her. But the thought of not seeing her again...

Riddler waves a hand in front of my face, bringing me back to the moment. I smile apologetically.

"Sorry. Lost in thought for a bit."

"I noticed." He stood up and held out a hand to me. "Come on. We'll go and get dinner, you must be hungry." As soon as he said it, I realised I was starving. I took his hand and stood, following him to the front door. "What do you feel like?"

"Surprise me. Show me some authentic Gotham food." I grin, and he answers with a smile of his own.

"I know a place." He leads me out to the elevator and we walk in. As soon as the doors close the atmosphere changes. Suddenly I'm very aware of Riddler, and how close he is, and all I can smell is his cologne. Spice and wood and musk and Riddler. I take a breath and try to control the feeling in my lower stomach. I peek up at him and see my own tense body language mirrored back at me. In an effort to ease the tension I take a step away, but my hand brushes against his. Before I can blink, he grabs my arms and pushes me up against the wall, leaning in so I can feel the hard lines of his body against mine. He pauses for an instant, his face millimetres from mine, looking at me with such intensity. I open my mouth to speak, and he takes advantage and closes the gap between us. The kiss is furious and rushed, but full of feeling. Everything he doesn't know how to say goes into the kiss, and I'm almost lost in it when the elevator doors ping open on the ground floor. We break apart, me flushed and out of breath, him smirking darkly.

"Wow." Is all I can say.

"Wow indeed." He says, more to himself than to me. We walk out onto the street and Riddler throws up a hand to hail a cab. He gives the driver an address, and we speed off.

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to get past the kiss.

"An Italian take-away place a few blocks away. The pizza is the best in the city." He says, looking out the window.

"Are you worried?" I ask. "About Crane, I mean." He doesn't answer, but the troubled frown on his face tells me that he is, at least a little.

I stare out the window, still marvelling in the fact that I'm in Gotham again. Before long the cab starts to slow. I lean over and look up at the store front.

" _Falcone_ Pizza? As in _Carmine Falcone_?" I look at Riddler in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding. You've got a target on your back, and you're eating here."

"Yes and no." He smirked. "We _are_ eating here, the pizza is the best. But no, it's not Carmine Falcone. It belongs to a second cousin who's cashing in on the family name. Free protection for the business, and a certain amount of respect and fear, and he doesn't even have to do anything. No connections to the mob at all." He explains, helping me out of the cab.

"How do you know all... Right. Stupid question." I frown at him. Of course he knows all that. It's _Riddler_. I follow him into the building, which turns out to be a cosy room, full of small tables and booths, all bathed in warm light. Each table has a small vase of flowers on it, giving it a nice, homey feel. Most tables are occupied, but no one even looked at Riddler and I as we walked in. I let him order, and continued to look around the restaurant. There was an older couple at one of the tables, sharing a pasta dish. Over in the corner a small family was eating pizza, the little boy picking mushrooms off his slice and slipping them into his napkin. A cute young couple occupied the booth near the door, making eyes at each other and giggling. And towards the back...

"Hey, Edward?" I say quietly, as he finished speaking to the man behind the counter. He looks to me, eyebrow raised. "That guy in the back looks familiar, but I can't place him. Do you know who he is?"

Riddler oh-so-casually looks around, sees the man, and looks back to me, face tight.  
"Alberto Falcone."

"As in big daddy Falcone's oldest kid?" I ask, already knowing the answer. "What's he doing here? I thought this place was unrelated to the mob!" I hiss, trying to keep my voice low.

"It isn't related." He says, brow furrowed.

"Well I doubt it's a coincidence. Come on, we should go."

"No." His face suddenly lightens, but the tension remains around his eyes. "Follow my lead."  
I don't know what he means, but before I can ask, he snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me close to his side, smiling like he doesn't have a care in the world. He picks up a flyer from a stack on the counter and pretends to look it over with me.  
"If, for whatever reason, he _is_ here for me, he's already seen me." He says conversationally, smile still in place. "We'll get the food and leave as planned, and see if we're followed." He says, looking relaxed. To anyone else in the restaurant, we'd look like a normal, happy couple looking at a flyer for a travelling circus coming to Gotham. I lean my head into his shoulder, continuing the act.

"And if we are followed?"I ask, looking blankly at the flyer.

"Then I'll handle it."  
A man comes out of the kitchen, pizza box in hand. "Mitchell?" He asks, checking the order slip.  
"That's us." Riddler releases me and walks over. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Mitchell?" I say, as he collects our food.

"Was trying not to draw attention. Should I have ordered as The Riddler?" He jokes as we leave. I'm too nervous to speak now, but follow him up the street for a while before he hails a cab. We get into the back seat and I look over at him questioningly. He nods slightly, eyes tight.  
We are being followed.  
This isn't what I wanted. I didn't want to keep fighting; I just wanted to be in Gotham, with Riddler. I sigh loudly. Back into the fray, I guess.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask.

"Get you somewhere safe, and then go after Alberto. Find out what he thinks he's doing." He says, tapping away on his phone, not looking at me.

"Hey, screw that." I say a little too loudly. The cab driver gives me a look that clearly says 'shut up, lady.' Riddler looks up at me, vague surprise on his face. "I'm not sitting around waiting. To hell with that." An idea hits me. "Do you still have that warehouse? You know, the one where I was a hostage, back when this was still Arkham City?" I ask, eagerly. And yes, it might have been a low blow to bring up the hostage thing, but hey, I was still somewhat pissed about that. Riddler has the decency to look contrite at the mention of the hostage incident.

"I do, why?"

"We'll go there; it'll be a better place for a confrontation with Falcone than the apartment. You go inside, very conspicuously, and I'll jump little Alberto when he tries to follow." I say proudly, thinking it was a good plan. Riddler seemed to disagree.

"Are you mad? Alberto will shoot you and not think twice. He's an idiot, and what's worse, he's a ruthless idiot. Anything to impress dear old dad." He shakes his head. "No, _you_ go in, and I'll teach the boy who he's dealing with." He pauses, thoughtfully. "Though the warehouse was a good plan."

"I had a good idea, no need to sound so surprised." I mumble. "But he's not after me, why would he follow me in?" I say louder.

"Trust me." Riddler says, a grin widening across his face. "Take a right here," He says loudly to the driver. "We're going to a new address."

"None o' my business," says the cab driver, "But that car behind us 'as been followin' since I picked you up."

"I'd noticed that." Riddler replies.

"Want me to shake 'em?" He asks, and in the rear-view mirror I can see him smile, kind blue eyes crinkling. "Used to be a driver for a low level fella in Sionis's crew. Been in a chase or two." He adds.

"Go." Riddler encourages, and fills me in on the plan.

A few minutes later and we pull up outside the warehouse.  
"For your trouble." Riddler hands a wad of bills over, too many for the cost of the ride.

"Nah." The driver shakes his head. "It's on me. My bit o' fun for the night." Riddler nods at him, and we exit the cab.

We move quickly. Riddler moves to the shadows around the side of the building, disappearing from sight. I hurry to the door of the warehouse, pizza in hand. I open the door but stay outside, waiting. The cab idles at the curb, the thrum of the engine the only thing breaking the silence.

We don't have to wait long. Headlights on the road tell us that Falcone is about to arrive. Just before he rounds the corner, the cab slowly pulls away, giving the illusion that we've only just arrived. I walk inside, closing the door behind me loudly, but leaving it unlocked. I immediately put the pizza down on a table to the side and move towards the back of the room.

The back door is camouflaged against the wall and difficult to spot, but I find it. I quietly exit the building, trying not to make a sound. I turn right and creep around the side, peer into the ally and see Riddler at the end, watching the street. I head back and up the other side of the building, and see two goons trying to peer into the blacked out windows. I sneak up until I'm directly behind them, close enough to be able to tell they both needed to wear way more deodorant.

"Evening gentlemen." I whisper, and they jump, turning to look at me. I pull out stun gun Riddler gave me and hit the first thug with it before jumping back. He slumps over, out for the count, before the other one realises what's happening. He looks at his buddy, then at me. He charges me, and I grab the taser at the small of my back, aim and fire. I say a silent thank you to The General back home for making sure I can hit my target. The thug stops in his tracks, convulsing. He falls to his knees, and I drop the taser. The guy groans a little before one well-placed kick to his head knocks him out cold. I lean over and check his pulse, just to be sure. Still alive. Thank god.  
The whole exchange had only taken about sixty second and hadn't made much more noise than a cat rummaging in the trash cans. No one would be coming to investigate. Not that anyone in this neighbourhood _would_.

I hear a scuffle around the front of the building and run towards it, just in time to see Riddler laying Alberto out on the pavement, a pistol levelled at his head.

"Are you okay?" He asks me as I come forward, not looking up from the other man.

"Yeah. No problems. Let's get him inside." I say, and Alberto looks to me, terror on his face. I grab one of his arms and Riddler grabs the other, roughly pulling him to his feet. I push the door open and we drag the mobster into the building. I lock the door behind us while Riddler ties Alberto to the chair in the corner.

"What the hell is this?" He asks, speaking for the first time. "You two morons know who I am? You'll pay for this." He promises. He reminds me of a petulant, spoiled child.

"No one will be seeking revenge if no one knows what happened to you." I point out.

"The question, Alberto, is do _you_ know who _I_ am." Riddler says.

"Of course I know who you are, you freak." Falcone spits at him. "And you're about to be a dead man. My boys are gonna come bustin' in here-"

"You mean the two incredibly smelly goons I knocked out in the ally?" I ask, smiling innocently. "Yeah, they aren't going anywhere for a while."

"Who the hell are _you_ supposed to be?" Falcone demanded, looking at me. "Since when does The Riddler have a partner?"

" _I'll_ be the one asking the questions here." Riddler says, and Alberto looks back to him. "Why are you following us? Who are you reporting back to? Obviously you won't be the brains behind whatever this is."He says condescendingly. Alberto just looks at him defiantly, not speaking. Riddler sighs comically.

"Well if you won't talk... I'll have to start cutting things off until you do." He says darkly, pulling a large knife from inside his jacket.

"Whoa! You don't gotta do that, I'll talk!" Alberto pleads, looking frantically from Riddler to his knife and back. Riddler looks pleased.  
"Look, no one sent me okay? It was my idea." He sounds weird, proud almost. Obviously Riddler offended him by saying it couldn't have been his plan. "My father told me-" He stammers as Riddler raises an eyebrow at him. "Yeah okay, I _overheard_ my father saying that everyone in Gotham is after you. The cops and Batman, as usual, but all the big players on the other side too. Everyone from Zsasz to Scarecrow. And that crazy guy with the hats." He adds on as an afterthought. "I never heard _why_ they want you, but I thought it might, I dunno, help out my father if I bought him information on where you were." Alberto says dejectedly. He knows Riddler's won this.

"Translation, you thought you'd garner the old man's affections if you told him where I was. Always so desperate to get into his good books." Riddler sneers, looking down at Alberto, whose jaw and eye were beginning to bruise. He doesn't say anything. "Well? What exactly did you learn?" Riddler asks, and the low, threatening tone of voice sends a shiver down my spine.

"Not much. Found your apartment, this place, and..." He stops when he notices Riddler's glare. "I mean, nothing. Didn't find out anything. Just saw you at cousin Lorenzo's restaurant. Didn't even know anyone was lookin' for you." He says quickly, desperation in his voice. Riddler smiles, but it's a cruel, mocking smile.

"Good remember that. And remember _this_ ," He holds up the knife, "Should I ever find you near us again." He takes a step back. "Your men should wake soon." He looks over to me, and I shrug guiltily. I _did_ hit that guy pretty hard. "Or maybe not. But when they do, and they get you out of that chair, remind them of what you found." He puts the knife back in his pocket and walks over, and offers me his arm, smiling. I grin back and take it, and he escorts me out of the warehouse, while Alberto shouted and cursed behind us.

* * *

 **A/N:** Another update so soon? I know, I'm shocked too!  
Hope you enjoyed. Reviews make me write fast!


	5. Chapter 5

"That was _bad ass!_ " I shout as soon as we're a few blocks from the warehouse. I'm running high on adrenaline and am feeling totally invincible. Riddler looks amused.  
"I mean, we kicked butt back there." I grin.

"You knocked two men unconscious, and I threatened a man's life. That's a good night out in your mind?" He raises an eyebrow. "Maybe there're some villainous traits in you after all."

"Well, they were _bad_ men." I reason. Riddler doesn't reply, but flags down a cab. We've been driving in silence for a while before I realised we weren't heading back towards the apartment in Amusement Mile.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we turn onto a highway.

"Alberto knows about that apartment. Though I doubt he'll talk, it's still not safe to go back there. We'll go to another of my safe houses, across the bridge."

"The bridge? It's all reconnected to the rest of Gotham then?"

"It was only reopened four months ago, but yes. It's almost returned to how it was before Arkham City was opened by that idiot Mayor." He snarls, face darkening. But butterflies erupt in my stomach. I get to see even more of Gotham?

"Where is the new safe house?" I ask.

"I have several, but we'll go to the apartment in Lacey Towers."

"No way. Like the apartment complex where Roman Sionis used to live?" I gasp.

"Still does, on occasion. He stayed mostly as a statement to Joker, I think. To show he couldn't be scared away."

"I guess that's at least one Rogue we won't have to look out for. Joker, I mean." I say, shrugging.

"Quinn may make up for it though. I hate to admit, but the woman is clever." Riddler answers as we leave the bridge and drive into Coventry. We don't speak again until the cab pulls up outside the apartment building. It looks almost exactly like I remember from Arkham Origins, if a little older.  
I follow Riddler out of the cab, and into the foyer, taking in everything I see. Tastefully decorated, with expensive chairs and lounges sitting by huge windows. We enter the elevator and it zooms up to the 15th floor. Riddler opens a door and we walk into the apartment. It's much more modest that the other, and about half the size, but feels more lived in.

"Do you stay here often?" I ask, looking around the open plan apartment.

"As often as is safe. It's central enough to most of my operations, and this building has several tenants similar to Sionis who value their privacy."

"You're being targeted by half of Arkham's inmates, and you choose to stay here? Don't you think we'll be spotted?"

"The perks of keeping a low visual profile. Not everyone can recognize me on sight. Only Sionis would know me, and I know for a fact he is currently in Bludhaven." He says smugly, moving into the kitchen and taking a bottle of wine out of the fridge. He holds up a glass, offering it to me. I nod.

"And only a few will recognize me." I say. "So we're safe here?"

"We should be for a few days," He pours the dark wine into two glasses and hands one to me, gesturing for me to take a seat on the sofa in the middle of the room. "But definitely for tonight." I take the glass from him and take a sip. I don't drink alcohol much, and don't really like wine, but it's surprisingly nice. I sit, looking out the window at the Gotham City skyline illuminated against the night sky and can hear Riddler still rummaging around in the kitchen behind me. I turn as he pulls a box out of the freezer.

"It's not Falcone pizza, but it'll do." He says, slight laughter in his voice.

"I suppose that will work." I smile back. "But you still owe me a real Gotham dinner one night."

"It's a date." He says, looking down at the pizza box cooking instructions. He probably didn't mean it literally, but at the word 'date,' my stomach still does flips. He finishes messing around in the kitchen and joins me on the sofa. I lean back into the chair and stifle a yawn. It's close to 2:00 am, and I'm exhausted. And starving. Riddler notices and looks over at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry your first night back in Gotham wasn't everything you were probably hoping for." He says. I smile at him.

"I don't know, a kidnapping, being followed by the mob, and a showdown in a warehouse? That sounds like a pretty average day in Gotham to me."

"Just wait until tomorrow." He quips. "Do you want a shower?"

"I would love one. And I think I should wash this cut." I say, gesturing to my side.

"Not a bad idea. The bathroom is through the bedroom, over there." He points to a closed door on the other side of the room. I finish the last of my wine and get up, put the glass in the sink, and head for the shower.

The bedroom is nicely decorated, and even has a few personal items. A book on the nightstand, keys and a notebook on top of the dresser, and a jacket neatly draped over the edge of the bed. I walk through to the generously sized bathroom. I pull off my shirt, wincing slightly as my cuts and bruises stretch. I can tell I'm going to be sore tomorrow. I peel away the bandage on my side, and notice that two of the stitches have popped. I sigh and get into the shower, letting the warm water soothe my muscles. I make sure to clean the cuts, and even wash my hair. After using way too much hot water, I finally get out. Carefully towelling off, I apply a fresh bandage to my cut and look over at my jeans and shirt. I don't really want to put the dirty clothes back on. Instead I wrap myself in the towel and sneak back into the bedroom and raid Riddler's closet.

When Riddler calls out that the pizza is ready, I'm dressed in a button up shirt of his that's long enough for modesty's sake, my hair is mostly dry and I'm feeling much better.

"Thank God, I'm starving." I say, coming out of the bedroom.  
"Well come and get-" he cuts off, looking at me. "And get it while it's hot." He finishes after a beat. I walk over awkwardly. Maybe it isn't okay that I stole his shirt. Maybe it's his favourite? Either way, I walk over and take a seat on a bar stool in front of the counter and help myself to a slice. Riddler pours out another glass of wine each for us, and grabs a slice himself. We eat in silence for a while, until most of the pizza is gone. I rinse out our now empty wine glasses and throw the empty pizza box in the trash while Riddler finishes his last slice.

"So, still a left side of the bed kind of guy?" I ask with a smile, referring to the first time we had to share a bed, back in a seedy motel a lifetime ago.

"I am." He smiles back, but looks distracted. "But I'm not going to bed. I have some work to do first."

"Oh. Okay. Well, goodnight then." I say, a little disappointed. I make my way to bed, and climb in. I can hear Riddler tapping away on a keyboard out in the other room, and have every intention of waiting up for him, but before I know it, I've fallen asleep.

¿?¿?¿?¿?

I wake up, blinking sleep out of my eyes. I look over at the other side of the bed to see Riddler collapsed on top of the quilt, still in the clothes he was wearing yesterday, looking like he dropped onto the bed and fell asleep. Even in sleep he somehow manages to have a vaguely condescending look on his face.

I carefully get out of the bed, trying not to disturb him. I heard him come in at around 4:00am, so he must be tired still. I tiptoe out of the bedroom and quietly close the door behind me.

I go straight to the kitchen and get a pot of coffee going. I help myself to a cup and walk over to the window, taking in the view. The sun is just coming up over the high buildings, staining the sky reds and pinks. It really is amazing to see. I stare out over the horizon until I finish my coffee.

I rinse out my cup and get to work making breakfast. I figure that would be a nice surprise for Riddler when he gets his ass out of bed. I find all the ingredients for pancakes and start mixing. I have another cup of coffee, cut up some fruit and have just put the first plate of pancakes into the oven to keep warm when I hear the shower turn on. Riddler is awake then.

A sudden, unprecedented homemaker feeling comes over me and I hurry around the kitchen, setting plates and cutlery. By the time Riddler comes out of the bedroom, hair damp, two plates of pancakes sit in front of the stools in the kitchen. There's two cups of fresh coffee steaming next to the plates, and a bowl of fresh fruit. Riddler looks at the food, looks at me, looks at the food and back at me.

"Good morning?" He says, and it comes out like a question. Crap. This is weird.

"Morning. I thought I'd..." I gesture at the table. "Um, hungry?" He nods, and we take our seats. He piles his pancakes with fruit and I slather mine with maple syrup. We eat in silence until both plates are empty and we've gone through two more cups of coffee.

"One could get used to waking up to that." He says, a smile on his face. "What bought that on?"

"How do you know I don't make breakfast like that every morning?" I'm met with an amused expression and a raised eyebrow. "Yeah okay. I just felt like making breakfast. Is that a problem?"

"I'm not complaining." He poured himself another cup of coffee and we moved to the sofa.

"Did you finish what you were working on last night?" I ask. He shrugs.

"Not really, but I did get a solid start." He says cryptically. Something about his tone says that if I ask any further, I won't get any answers.

"What's the plan for today? Send flowers to Scarecrow? Try to mend friendships?" I'm only half joking.

"I thought I'd take you on a tour of Gotham." He sips his coffee.

"Really? That would be awesome!" I enthuse. "But don't you have more important things to be doing today? Like dealing with everyone who wants payback?"

"One day won't hurt. And moving around Gotham will make it more difficult for them to find me. Not that any of them will find me until I want them too." He smirks, his usual attitude coming through. "Is there anywhere you want to see?"

"Um, _yes._ Only like, a thousand places. Wait, is there anywhere we can't go?" I ask, rubbing his ego a little.

" _I_ can get us in anywhere you want. Like they could keep me out." He scoffs. Perfect. Where to start? There's so much I want to see!

"Honestly, top of my list is the Asylum." I say. "But maybe we should stick to the city."

"I've spent a considerable amount of time breaking _out_ of that facility, and that's the first place you want to go?" He asks, disbelief in his voice and eyebrows raised.

"I'm a fan of the inmates." I wink. "Well, one of them at least."

"I'm sure Jervis Tetch is flattered." He says drolly, so I slap him in the arm. "The Asylum may have to wait; I can't have myself arrested just yet."

"No problem. The Monarch Theatre?"

"Why there?" He asks, looking at me suspiciously.

"No real reason, it's just one of the places I've heard of in Gotham." I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but I'm pretty sure he knows something's up. Still, he doesn't push the issue.

"The theatre it is. Where else?"

"Wayne Enterprises? And the GCPD. Anywhere you'd suggest?" I'd love to see Wayne Manor, but that would raise too many questions.

"No where comes to mind. Any particular reason you chose those places?"

"Yes. But I'm not saying." My tone leaves no room for argument. Riddler isn't pleased, but lets it drop.

"We'll start at the GCPD, and work our way towards the theatre. You should probably get dressed. Trying to keep a low profile, remember?" He smirks, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. I stammer something unintelligible and hurry to the bedroom to get dressed.  
It's not like I haven't dated and fooled around with guys before, but it seems different with Riddler somehow. Almost like there's more at stake. At the moment, I think to myself as I put on my jeans, I could still leave. I mean, I'm crazy about the guy. Which is ironic because he's just _crazy_. But I've lived without him before, and I can do it again. But I feel like if I let this go any further, I'll be too invested to make a clean break to go back home.

I shake my head to clear it. I don't want to be thinking about all this now; I've got a city to explore! I quickly run my fingers through my hair, give it up as a lost cause and throw it up in a pony tail.

"Ready when you are." I say, coming out of the bedroom.

"Give me a moment." He says, breezing past me as I walk over to the kitchen. A moment later he comes out, dressed in fresh clothes. My breath catches, and those butterflies show up again. He looks _good_. Black dress pants that are perfectly tailored, deep green vest over a white shirt. He's buttoning up his cuffs when he notices me looking. A slow, cocky smile spreads over his face, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking, and he steps towards me, closing the few feet between us.  
The air turns thick with tension. Adrenaline shoots through me and I bite my lip, drawing his darkening eyes to my mouth. My stomach clenches, and all thoughts of exploring Gotham fly out of my mind. Judging by the look on Riddler's face, he's not thinking of sightseeing either. I step back but bump into the kitchen counter behind me.

"Edward-" I begin, but I don't get any further. He kisses me furiously, and after half a beat I'm returning the kiss with just as much force. My hands are in his hair and his are lifting me onto the kitchen counter. I wrap my legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss, wanting to be even closer to him. He breaks away from my lips and plants kisses down my neck and across my collarbone with such passion I know it's going to leave marks, but right now, I don't care.

" _Edward_ ," I breathe, so lost in feeling I'm unable to form a sentence. At the sound of his name a growl comes from low in his throat, and he captures my mouth with his again. A second later he's picking me up and walking. I barely notice, still completely focused on kissing him. Suddenly I'm horizontal, soft mattress under my back. Then he pulls back, ignoring my groan of protest.

"Are you sure you want to?" He asks seriously, looking into my eyes. I pause for a moment to consider my answer. Then in response, I roll over so I'm sitting over him, legs on either side. He looks shocked, and I raise my eyebrow in a poor imitation of the look he gives me. He grins back at me, and I pick up where he left off.

* * *

Let me know what you thought?


	6. Chapter 6

It's after midday, and we're still in bed.  
"So, why do you want to see those places in particular?" Riddler asks, lying on the bed next to me. He's looking adorably dishevelled, hair sticking up in every direction. I hate to think how mine must look.

"Not telling." I poke my tongue out at him. I roll over to him, pulling the sheet closer to me.

"Very mature." He rolls his eyes, so I hit him with a pillow. We lie there for a while longer. I trace my fingers over his chest, drawing swirls and patterns, and I can feel him playing with my hair. It's peaceful, and I'm happy. So happy I feel giddy.  
I mentally smack myself for acting like a loved-up school girl.

"So much for sightseeing, huh?" I say eventually, breaking the silence.

"There's always tomorrow." He smiles, and that makes me grin again, because I'm still in _Gotham._ Life is sweet right now.

"Hey, so what were you working on last night? Have you got a way to get all the criminals back on side?" I ask, still lying down on his shoulder.

"A vague idea. Needs to be expanded on, but yes, I have a plan." He responds absently, running his hands through my hair. I wait a beat.

"Well? Are you going to tell me or let me die of suspense?" I demand.

"Wouldn't want you to die. I'd have to clean up the mess." He says sardonically.

"Jerk." I try to swing the pillow at him again, but he grabs it away. "So, what's the plan?"

"All I have to do is kill Batman."

Wait. What?  
I wait a few beats for him to say he's kidding.  
Nothing.

" _Kill Batman?"_ I screech, sitting up so fast I almost knock him off the bed. He looks up at me, shocked. "Tell me you're not serious."

"As a heart attack." He quips. "It's quite genius, if I say so myself. Not only do I prove to the Rogues that I am one of them, but I am the _best_ of them." He says, a glint in his eye that hints at the crazy bubbling underneath.

"Are you _insane_?" I shout at him, clutching the sheet against myself to keep some form of modesty. "You can't kill Batman! You can't!"

"Can't? I think you'll find I can." He shoots back, sitting up, eyes flashing.

"Edward, be real. You're not going to kill Batman. He's _Batman._ " I say, lowering my voice, trying to gently talk some sense into him. "People have tried and finished up in Arkham." As soon as I've said it, I know instantly it's the wrong argument for Riddler.

"People like the Joker? Homicidal maniac, couldn't catch Batman even if he actually wanted to. Too preoccupied with the _joke_. Or Black Mask? Falcone? They can't even run a mob properly. They don't have a hope. I am above all of them, in every way." He seethes, standing up and getting dressed angrily.

"Edward, I didn't mean-"

"Oh, I understood. You don't want your precious Dark Knight hurt. Well unfortunately for you, it's going to happen. I'm going to be the one to rid Gotham of Batman once and for all." And with that, he storms out of the room, slamming the door, leaving me alone and confused.

What the hell just happened? Ten minutes ago we were perfectly fine, and now I'm left reeling. I stand up slowly and get dressed, trying to process everything. Riddler won't really kill Batman, will he? He wouldn't.  
I scoff to myself. Of course he would. If only to prove to himself that he can. I have to fix this before it goes too far. I leave the bedroom, slowly padding out to the living room, to where Riddler has his supercomputer set up.

"Edward?" I say. "Hey, I want to apologise. I didn't mean you _couldn't_. I mean, if anyone could pull it off, it would be you." I try and soothe his ego. "But please, I'm asking you not to. I'm _begging_ you." I say, letting my own ego take a hit. He sits at the computer, back to me, not giving any indication he heard me.  
I take a few steps towards him, but as soon as I'm close enough to see anything on the screen he hits a button, sending the screens into darkness. He finally turns to face me.

"Please Edward." I try again. "We can find another way." There's a few moments of horrible, tense silence.

"Why shouldn't I?" He asks, voice quiet and deadly. "What has the Great Detective ever done to deserve my mercy? Break my bones? Beat me unconscious? Throw me in Arkham? Where in all that does mercy come in?"

"He helped us. He helped us send everyone back here. _And_ trusted you to come back after he left." I point out, but I know it won't be enough.

"He helped _you_. I don't recall a lot of trust being thrown my way." He laughs derisively.

"He's a hero, Edward. He's the good guy. That puts you two on different sides. Of course you clash occasionally. Maybe if you stop blowing up things and setting up deadly brain teasers all over the place, you two would get on better!" I shout, anger spilling out. "Don't play the victim, Edward; it's not a good look on you."

"I'm playing the victim am I?" He asks, standing up out of his chair. Suddenly he's standing imposingly half a foot over my head, but I'm still fired up.

"Yeah, you are! Batman comes after you because you're a villain! You hurt people, kill them sometimes. That makes you a bad guy. You know, the traditional enemy of the hero?"

"I'm the bad guy?"

"Yes!" It's a full on shouting match now. I'm on my tiptoes, trying to close the height distance, trying to make myself look more imposing.

"And yet here you are." Riddler sneers down at me. "You got to Gotham, and who did you find? The _villain._ Why didn't you find your Dark Knight? Why did you run straight to me?"

"Because for some stupid reason, you're the one I want!" I yell back at him. "Though I'm starting to regret that!"

"If you don't want to be here, I'm not keeping you." He says.

"Well maybe I should leave." I say, regretting it immediately. I don't want to go.

"Well, I'm not stopping you." Riddler says after a beat. I don't respond, and he turns around. I think I hear him sigh, and he sits down with his back to me, typing away again.  
I stand there in silence for a moment, still radiating anger. I turn on my heel and storm out, slamming the apartment door behind me. I lean against the wall opposite, breathing deeply.

He's being ridiculous, I tell myself. I'm completely in the right.

Comfortable in that belief, I take off towards the elevator and ride it down to the ground floor. As soon as I step outside the building the fresh air hits me. It's cold, just enough to make me wish I'd grabbed a jacket. I rub my arms, trying to heat up, while I try to plan my next move. Honestly, I don't really have anywhere to go. Probably thought I should have thought of that before getting myself thrown out of Riddler's apartment.

 _Why didn't you find your Dark Knight?_

Riddler's words come back to me and, ignoring the sting they leave, I realise he has a point.  
I have to go to Bruce Wayne.

?

After studying the tramlines for twenty minutes, I think I've found a way to Wayne Enterprises. Well, a way to a stop two blocks away, but it'll do. I sit alone on the tram, watching the other people go about their afternoons. According to the clock I saw in the station, it's just past four o'clock. I can hear a woman on her phone a few seats away telling her husband she'll be home for dinner. An exhausted looking man a bit further up is trying to convince his two young children to sit still on their seats. And lots of professional looking people are standing and sitting, looking at their phones or reading the paper. For all these people, this is life. Work nine to five, go home, and avoid the super criminals in the city.  
It could be my life, if I choose to stay.

I wait out the rest of the trip and almost miss my stop. I quickly dash off the tram at the last minute, and make my way up the block towards the enormous tower stretching into the sky. The security guard at the front door gives me a look, but lets me in. I walk to the front desk, up to a pretty blonde girl tapping away at a computer.

"Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, how can I help you?" She asks, smiling politely up at me.

"Hi. I'm looking for Mr Wayne?" I say, but it sounds like a question.

"I'm sorry, Mr Wayne doesn't typically come into Wayne Enterprises. I can take a message and pass it on next time he's in?" She offers. The saccharine smile on her face tells me my message will be balled up and thrown in the trash as soon as I walk away.

"How about someone in charge? Who's the boss?" I ask, standing my ground.

"You must mean Mr Fox."

"Lucius Fox? Yeah. Can I talk to him?" I ask, excited. Fox would almost definitely be able to help me.

"Did you have an appointment?" She asks, obviously knowing full well I don't.

"No. But this will only take a minute." I say, just as sweetly.

"I'm sorry, Mr Fox is a very busy man. You won't be able to speak to him without an appointment." She simpers, obviously very _un-_ sorry.

"Well can I make an appointment then? For this afternoon?" Annoyance seeps into my voice.

"He's all booked up today I'm afraid." She replies after a few clicks at the computer. I try not to sigh, and mostly succeed.

"Tomorrow then?"

"Hmm... No sorry, nothing available tomorrow either."

"Look, this is important. I _really_ need to speak to him." I plead.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. Is there anything else I can help you with?" I want to smack the stupid smile off her face, but I force myself to smile back.

"That's okay. Thanks for your help. Is there a ladies room I can use before I go?" I ask, smiling. She eyeballs me suspiciously for a moment.

"Sure. Its back there, to the left of the elevators." She gestures, and looks pointedly at the big silver watch on her wrist. Obviously I'll be getting timed. I nod my thanks and head back.

I walk into the bathroom, count to ten, and poke my head back out. Sure enough, Receptionist Barbie has stopped watching me and is back to playing solitaire on the computer. I push at the buttons on the elevator, willing it to arrive quickly. The doors slide open and I dash in, and they close behind me just in time for me to hear the receptionist yelling after me.

I figure Fox's office will be on the top floor, so that's where I head. I'm the only person in the lift, so luckily, it goes directly to the top without stopping. I take a few seconds to collect myself before the doors open, smoothing my hair and tucking my shirt in a bit. Well, Riddler's shirt. No wonder the security guard gave me a weird look. I must look a bit odd. Skinny jeans, mens button down shirt and messed up sex hair. Probably should have fixed that on the train. I do the best I can with it in the elevator, and then the doors ping open into a foyer with several closed doors. There's a security guard up here too, who looks like he spends every spare minute lifting weights. Big ones.

"Mr Fox's office?" I ask, trying to give off a professional aura.

"That one." He points, nodding at me. I thank him and walk over to the door on the left. I knock twice.

"Come in." A deep male voice sounds from inside. I hear the security guards radio crackle to life behind me and a distressed female voice speak over it, so I hurry inside. No doubt it's the receptionist calling to have me thrown out.

"Mr Fox?" I say and he looks up from behind his desk. He's an older man, and the first thing I notice about him is his kind eyes.

"That's me. What can I do for you?" He asks, looking mildly surprised at having a dishevelled young woman barge into his office.

"I'm about to be thrown out of here by security, but this is super important. I need to speak to Bruce Wayne. He knows me, and I need him-" The door busts open, cutting me off.

"Ma'am, you need to come with me. You shouldn't be here. Sorry Mr Fox." Mr Muscles nods at Fox before grabbing me roughly by the arm.

"Mr Fox, please, it's important!" I shout as I'm being forcefully directed out of the office.

"Just a minute, Walsh." Fox holds up a hand and Muscles pauses. "I'll speak to the young lady. If there's trouble, I'll call you." The guard looks at me suspiciously.

"I'm harmless." I promise, holding up my hands. After a moment the guard nods again and leaves the office. I turn back to Fox. "Thank you."

"You've peaked my interest, miss...?"

"Mitchell. Belle Mitchell, sir." I say, and a sudden look of understanding comes over his face.

"Ah."

"You've heard of me?" I ask, surprised.

"Yes. A mutual friend of ours did mention you too me. Your story was quite interesting."

"You know all that?" I ask, and I realise I must sound like an idiot. I've barely formed a full sentence. "It's just that this whole thing is a bit... unusual."

"To say the least." Fox says, almost smiling. "Have a seat. What can I help you with?"

"Well I've found myself back in Gotham again. Obviously." I say, sitting down in one of the fancy looking chairs on the other side of the desk. He sits back down too. "And I really need to speak to Wayne. I have to give him a heads up on what's coming." I don't really want to say that my homicidal boyfriend is gunning for him, but I think Fox gets the message.

"I know enough to read between the lines, Miss Mitchell. I can get a message to him if you like?" He offers.

"Actually, I'd like to talk to him myself. To explain it all. And possibly find a bed for a while. My, um, current living position isn't working anymore." I explain awkwardly. Thankfully, Fox doesn't push the issue.

"I can drive you to Wayne Manor at the end of the day if you like. I have a few things that need my attention before I can leave for the day, but if you don't mind waiting, I'd be happy to take you."

"That would be fantastic. Thank you, Mr Fox." I say gratefully. This has turned out far better than I'd hoped.

"Lucius, please. I'll try not to be too long."

"Thank you Lucius. I'll wait downstairs in the lobby?"

"That would be fine." He smiles, and I return it with one of my own. I smirk a little at Muscles on my way to the elevator, and smirk a lot at the receptionist as I take a seat in the incredibly comfy chair in the lobby. I'm petty like that.

I spend the next hour people watching through the enormous windows, watching an average afternoon on a Gotham street pass by. It looks like any other city in the world. So normal. So real.  
Eventually I feel a light tap on my shoulder.

"Ready to go, Miss Mitchell?" Fox asks, smiling down at me.

"Call me Belle. I'm ready." I jump up, shooting one last look at the receptionist. She glares back, and I follow Fox down into the underground parking structure.

"This is mine. Hop in." He invites, unlocking a dark sedan. We both settle in and he starts the ignition and looks over to me. "To Wayne Manor." He says. I grin. This is going to be awesome.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! You people are fantastic. Let me know what you thought!


	7. Chapter 7

Twenty minutes and a drive through Gotham later, and I'm standing at the front door of Bruce Wayne's home. The nerd part of my brain is screaming in excitement, but the rest of me is nervous as hell. Before I've had time to compose myself, Fox has knocked on the door and there's an older man in a suit standing there.  
"Alfred."

"Lucius." The two men nodded in greeting.

"Is he in?" Fox asks. "There's someone he should speak to." He gestures to me. "Belle Mitchell, I'm sure you recognise Alfred. Alfred, this is Miss Mitchell."  
The way his eyes widen a fraction tells me he is also familiar with my story. I raise my hand in greeting.

"If you'd both follow me." Alfred leads us inside, up the stairs to a room at the end of a hall. He knocks twice before entering.

"Master Wayne-"

"Is it Lucius? Send him in." Bruce interrupts, not looking up from the desk he's sitting behind. He's focused intently on the tablet in his hand, brow furrowed.

"Not just me, Mr Wayne." Fox says, a ghost of a smile in his voice. Bruce looks up and I step forward, grinning sheepishly.

"Remember me?"

The look he gives me says he remembers, and wishes he didn't. "Long time no see."

"Not long enough." He replies. Yep. Definitely not pleased to see me. "What are you doing here?"

"Here in Gotham, here in your house, or here in the cosmic sense?" I quip, hoping to lighten the mood. Bruce glares at me. "Harley Quinn was still in my world, and threatening my family. I took care of here, and coming here was kind of a snap decision. I didn't really have time to think."

Bruce sighs and massages his temples. "And you need help?"

"Well, yes. I got myself kicked out of Ed- of the place I was staying." I correct myself, but it's obvious everyone in the room knew what I was going to say. "I just need help until I find my feet. I'll get a job, and find a place, and I'll be out of your hair. Promise." I held my hand up in a scout's honour gesture.

Alfred and Fox stayed silent, standing slightly behind me. The silence is tense, waiting for Bruce to answer.

"You can stay with me, until we can organise a more permanent situation." He finally says.

"Oh man, th-"

"I have a few conditions." He interrupts me. Wonderful. I didn't even finish thanking him and he's setting rules. I take a deep breath.

"Sure. That's fair. And I'm pretty sure we can all guess rule one." I raise one eyebrow, challenging him to prove me wrong. He doesn't.

"I'm sure we can, but I'll say it anyway. No contact with Nygma." He says sternly. Damn, there goes my plea of ignorance.

"What are these other conditions?" I ask.

"We can discuss them in the morning. Alfred, if you'd show Belle to a room in the East Wing?" He says, turning from me.

"Certainly. Miss Mitchell, if you'll come with me."

"Uh, sure. Goodnight, I guess. And thank you so much Mr Fox." I say sincerely.

"My pleasure. I was driving this way, giving you a lift was no trouble."

"I was thinking more of how you didn't feed me to that overly muscled security guard, but thanks for the lift too." I smile at him, and he returns it.

I trail after Alfred down the long hallway to the other side of the house. He opens a door, showing a tastefully decorated bedroom.

"Here you are. Don't hesitate to ask for anything." He says politely.

"Sure. Thanks, Mr Pennyworth." He nods and leaves me alone. I quickly find the attached bathroom and take a shower. My exhaustion finally hits me, and I can barely stand. I towel off, throw the shirt I took from Riddler back on and sink into the soft bed. Thankfully, I fall into a dreamless sleep. 

? 

I'm leaning against the counter in the enormous kitchen, drinking coffee from the pot I found already brewed, when Bruce walks in. For a moment I'm struck by how handsome he really is. Where Riddler is sharp angles and piercing looks, Bruce is all chiselled jaw and steady gaze. They really are polar opposites.

"Morning." He greets me, breaking my train of thought.

"Hey. Thanks again, Bruce. I know I'm a royal pain in your bat-butt, but it's great what you're doing for me." He looks like he might crack a smile, but he doesn't. "So, should we talk about the rest of the conditions of my stay at Chalet Wayne?"

"We should. Soon." He clears his throat. "Alfred should have left some clothes in your room. Get changed and he'll show you where I am." With that, he leaves again. I drain my coffee cup and go back upstairs to my room. Sure enough, there's a pile of clothes on the bed. I get changed into the black leggings and loose tee shirt, wondering about Alfred's taste in clothing. When I open my door he's standing there waiting. Before I can ask about the outfit, he speaks.

"I'll show you to Mr Wayne." He says, and something about his tone discourages questions. Maybe he doesn't like me very much.  
The room he leads me to answers some questions.

Bruce is standing in the centre of the room, in loose fitting black pants and a fitted tee shirt. Exercise equipment lines the walls, and a large rubber mat takes up most of the space in the middle. The walls hold displays of swords, throwing stars and fighting sticks, and judging by the notches in them, they are well used.

"Are we about to have a Karate Kid style moment where you turn me into a ninja?" I ask by way of greeting.

He actually does crack a smile at that. "Kind of." He nods. "Staying away from Nygma is one of the conditions of your stay here." He pauses, and I nod my acknowledgement. "And you tend to attract trouble." I nod again. "So without his protection, I thought I would teach you how to defend yourself."

"I know the basics." I tell him. "I can take care of myself."

"So you would say Gotham is basic?" He asked, one eyebrow cocked.

"Okay, you have a point. But I still think I'm pretty safe."  
As soon as the words leave my mouth Bruce is in front of me, hooking my legs out and I'm lying flat on my back, the wind knocked out of my lungs.

"Alright." I wheeze, "You may actually be on to something."  
He grins down at me before offering a hand to help me up. I jump a little, loosening up, ready for the next round.

"Bring it." I say, and this time I'm at least sort of ready. Bruce comes at me, one punch to the shoulder, designed to knock me off balance. I lean quickly, so the blow mostly glances off. He's already spun around and made a grab for my arm, so I leap to the left into a roll.

I try for an offensive, feinting right and sending a punch into his left side. It hits pretty solidly, but he doesn't even flinch. So I jump, spinning a kick towards his head with a loud cry. He catches my foot in midair, and I'm knocked on my ass again, Bruce straddling my midsection, barely even sweating.

"You win, send me to Arkham." I surrender, trying to squirm out from under 200 pounds of Bruce.

"Not bad." He says, not budging. "The kick was good, but showy. Your moves will be harder to block if you don't make a big deal out of them before you attack."

"If you don't get off me I won't be able to move ever again!" I yelp, trying to squirm again. He stands up, giving me a hand again. "Well I guess you have a point. I could use a bit more training." I admit, pushing the loose strands of my hair out of my face. "So. Be my Mr Miyagi?"

"My pleasure." Bruce says, smiling a little.

"Is that because you're actually happy to teach me, or because it makes you feel better to kick my annoying butt to the floor over and over?" He smiles a little wider and turns to walk out. "Bruce? Which one?" I shout, but he just keeps walking. 

? 

And for the next two weeks, we fall into routine. I wake up, make coffee for Bruce and I, we work out, and then he goes to work or do whatever Bruce Wayne does in his downtime, and I chill with Alfred.

He brings me up to date with day to day life in Gotham, and I help him make dinner and wash dishes.  
So one night, Alfred and I are sitting in the huge kitchen, with a cup of tea. I'm sitting on the counter which Alfred doesn't approve of, and Alfred is sitting at the breakfast bar. We're talking about winters in Gotham when Bruce appears, slightly breathless. Alfred and I stop mid-sentence, looking up.

"Are you busy?" Bruce asks, looking to me.

"Not particularly. What's up buttercup?" I reply, before bursting into laughter at the expressions on the men's faces. Maybe not many people call Batman buttercup.

"There's some activity happening out at the Bowery." He raises one eyebrow, and pauses a beat.

"Want to come?"


	8. Chapter 8

"Um, _yes!_ " I all but shout. "Do I get a costume? Am I a sidekick now? Do I get a superhero name?"

"Don't make me rescind the offer." Bruce threatens, so I shut up. "There should be some clothes in the cave that will work. There should be some body armour in there too." He's barely finished his sentence before I'm flying down the hallways towards the Bat Cave. This is going to be great!

I find the clothing and armour easily, when my eyes land on another item in the cupboard. I reach in and pull it out slowly, my mind racing.

"That's yours." Bruce says from behind me. "If you want it." I look up to him, and his face is perfectly serious. I look back to the item in my hands, and his meaning is clear. He got me a mask. My own mask. It's slightly smaller than Bruce's, and even without trying it, I know it will fit my face perfectly.

It's more than just a mask though, and that knowledge makes it seem heavier than it is. If I accept this mask, I'm accepting all of this. Fighting crime and siding with Bruce and, most painfully, accepting that I can't see Riddler anymore.  
Not that I've heard from him for the last two weeks anyway.  
I push those thoughts away, and turn back to face Bruce.  
And put on the mask.

?

We arrive at the Bowery in good time, but my excitement has me nearly jumping out of my skin. I climb out of the Bat Mobile, and nervously adjust my Kevlar padding. It restricts my movement a little more than I'm used to, but I can still move freely enough.

"Keep close, and follow my instructions exactly." Bruce says for the thousandth time. I roll my eyes, but he doesn't see.

"Yes sir. But I think I can handle a few low level thugs." I reply.

"Confidence is okay. Arrogance can get you killed." He warns. "Penguin's men aren't known for their brains, but they are known for their willingness to attack anyone and anything."

"Got it."

"Here," he hands me a few razor sharp batarangs. "You might not be great at throwing these yet, but if anyone gets close to you, they _are_ good for slashing at eyes. That will stop an attacker, at least for a moment. Now, we need to move. Follow me, keep down, and don't do anything stupid." He finishes the sentence with a hard stare. I nod in understanding, and we move.

Creeping through a dark ally, I start to hear voices up ahead. We move silently forward, until I can see figures in the dimly lit parking lot up ahead. Six men, standing in a loose circle around the boot of a car. One of the men is holding a duffle bag.

"Arms deal?" I whisper under my breath, scared to make a noise. Bruce nods, scowling under his mask.

"The man in the cap is Jack Renner. Known arms dealer. I've dealt with him before." He replies. The low, gravelly tone of his voice sends a shiver through me that I don't understand. Before I have time to dwell on it, Renner reaches into the trunk of the car and pulls out a large gun, showing it off to the other men. Before he can fire a shot, a glinting batarang goes flying through the air, impaling the side of the car inches away from Renner's thigh.

The men's heads shoot up in our direction so fast it's almost comical. The funny side is somewhat lessened by the fact that now they're all holding guns.

"Looks like we have a problem with a flying rodent, boys." Renner sneers, and I hear a chorus of guns being cocked. For the first time my fear out ways my excitement, and I look to Bruce.

I'm momentarily struck by the intense look on his face. I can almost hear him thinking, planning out how best to take care of the situation. There's a kind of deadly beauty to him, a dark outline in a darker ally. But I force myself to focus on the situation at hand.

Bruce gives me a signal to stay put, and uses his grappling hook to soar up to the roof of the building to our left. I have a nerd moment when I see him, shadow against the night sky, crouched on the ledge of the roof.

I look back to the men, worried. I don't like the odds of us against six armed men, who have a trunk full of back up weapons. My eyes fall on the lone street lamp that's illuminating the scene before me, and an idea starts to form.  
I take one of the Batarangs Bruce gave me, and line up the light bulb shining above the men. I exhale, say a small prayer, and throw.  
Miraculously, it hits its target. The light shatters, plunging the thugs into darkness. That should make it harder to aim at any would be heroes.

Bruce makes the most of their panic and leaps down, taking one man out with his landing. I move towards the mouth of the alley, ready to jump in should Bruce need me.  
I watch his movements, filled with a lethal grace, as he methodically takes down another thug, and another. He's fighting two at once, when I notice Jack Renner making a getaway across the parking lot. I take off at a sprint, running past Bruce and the other men, all too busy fighting each other to notice me.

I close the gap between me and Renner, until I'm right behind him. I kick out and ankle tap him, sending him sprawling across the concrete. Dirty trick, but it works.  
He jumps up, snarling at me.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" He demands. I don't reply, answering him with a solid kick to the stomach instead. He stumbles back, winded, and I follow the attack with a succession of rapid punches to his jaw, during which he only lands a few hits on me. He's dazed, so I take advantage of his state by sending a flying kick to his head. This puts him down, barely conscious. I grab the handcuffs Bruce supplied me from my belt and cuffed one of his hands to a pipe attached to the building beside us. I feel ecstatic. My first bad guy! Bruce is standing behind me, already having taken care of the other two thugs, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he looks proud.

After a quick phone call to the police, alerting them to the location of several wanted criminals, we take off. Once we're safely in the Bat Mobile, I let out a whoop of glee.

"Did you see me? Tell me you saw!" I exclaimed.

"I did." He replies, and I can see the smile under his cowl. "You did well. That lip will be sore when the adrenaline wears off though." He warns, and I bring a hand up to my mouth. I hadn't even noticed, but I feel the blood there now. I shrug.

"Worth it." I say, still smiling. "I notice you don't look any worse for wear."

"Experience." Is all he says. I'm practically vibrating with elation the whole ride back, until we pull up back at Wayne Manor. Alfred is waiting, with his usual controlled expression.

"Welcome back Mr Wayne, Miss Mitchell. I trust all went well?"

"It went awesome!" I exclaim before Bruce can answer. "Bruce is a bad ass, and I am a bad ass in training. Look out Gotham's underworld, Belle Mitchell is coming for you." I throw some punches around for emphasis. Alfred raises his eyebrow but doesn't comment. Bruce smiles, and now he's removed his cowl, I can see the way his eyes crinkle up, and my stomach does a weird flip.  
"I'm hungry." I announce. That's probably what's wrong with my stomach. "Kicking ass burns calories. Who wants pancakes?" I offer.

"In a minute," Bruce says. "First, you have to take care of your lip, and any other injuries."

I throw up a mock salute. "Yes sir." I head over to the locker area, and change back into my comfortable shorts and tee shirt I had been wearing earlier. When I reach the first aid station, Bruce is already there waiting, back in his ordinary black trousers and button up shirt.

"Are you playing nurse for me?" I ask, one eye brown cocked, grinning at him.

"Something like that." He quips, returning my cheeky look with one of his own. I move to the sink, and tidy up my split lip, wiping away the now dried blood. Bruce stands by, watching carefully.

"Anything else hurt?" He asks.

"I have a feeling I'm going to have an impressive black eye tomorrow." I admit. I could already feel the bruising starting to form. Bruce steps forward, suddenly in my personal space, and takes my face in his hands.  
 _He's going to kiss me_ , I think to myself.

Suddenly he steps back, looking unaffected. "Doesn't feel broken." He says. "Ice it tonight, it shouldn't be as bad." I nod, not knowing what else to say. "Now, was there an offer of pancakes?" He asks, smiling slightly. I watch him walk away, through the door leading back into the manor.  
 _I can't believe I thought he was going to kiss me. I'm such a weirdo.  
_ I shake off the moment and follow him into the house, detouring by my room on the way to the kitchen. I grab my phone and check it, and stop in my tracks. _One missed call_. I know that number by heart. I hurry over to the stairs, and can hear Bruce talking to Alfred in the kitchen, so I go back to my room and shut the door behind me. I hit redial and wait, listening to his phone ring. I'm just about to give up when he answers.

"Belle?"

"Hi." I squeak. I clear my throat and try again. "Hi. You called?"

"Yes. Just checking if you were still here or if you'd gone home." He said, no warmth in his voice.

"Still here Edward. Are you still being an ass?" I ask, my anger at him returning.

"I'm not dignifying that with a response." He scoffs.

"That was a response." It's juvenile, and I can practically hear him roll his eyes.

Was there something else you wanted?" I ask. I've run out of patience with this conversation. I don't want to fight, but how can I not when he thinks the answer to his problems is to kill Batman?

"No." He pauses. "Be careful."

"I'm touched that you still care." I retort.

"Don't be ridiculous, Belle." He snaps, sounding exasperated. "Of course I do."

"Then are you going to stop this stupid plan of yours?" I ask, almost hopeful.

"Speaking of ridiculous." He mutters. "Put aside your adoration of the man and you'll see I'm right." I can hear the overconfidence in his voice.

"You're not stupid Edward. You know you can't get to us." I say, and realise my mistake immediately.

"Us? Belle, where are you?" _Crap._

"I'm sorry." I say, and hang up. I pull the battery and sim card out of my phone, effectively cutting off any way Riddler can track the signal. No doubt Bruce has some protection against that around the Manor anyway, but just to be safe, I dump it all in the trash. I'll use some of the money Bruce lent me to get a new one tomorrow.

I hurry downstairs to the kitchen and breeze in, trying to look like nothing happened.  
"Hope you saved some for me." I say, dropping into the chair beside Bruce ungracefully.

"For the bad ass in training? Of course." Bruce grins, passing me a plate stacked high with pancakes.

"Oh man, Alfred, you are my new hero. He's been demoted to number two." I say, nodding at Bruce, who puts on an expression of mock hurt. Alfred looks like he's thinking of smiling.

I eat my fill, and lean back in my chair, sated. Now full of pancakes and not running on adrenaline, my tiredness hits me full force. I yawn, and feel my lip split again.  
"Damn" I mutter, reaching for a napkin, but Bruce beats me too it. He leans in and gently presses the cloth to my lip. He dabs gently, removing the slowly leaking blood.

"So," He says conversationally, "Did you call him, or did he call you?" _Damn._

"He called me." I say awkwardly around the cloth, opting for honesty. "Well, I missed the call, but I called him back. How did you know? And don't say 'because I'm Batman.'" I roll my eyes. He smiles in a way that lets me know that was exactly what he was going to say.

"Want to talk about it?"

"You're asking me about my relationship troubles with one of your enemies?" I ask doubtfully. "You want to braid my hair next?" He doesn't reply, but puts the cloth down now that the bleeding has stopped. I sigh loudly. "He's still set on this crazy idea of killing you. He now knows I'm with Batman, because I don't think before I talk. And he's still generally an ass." I shrug, as if it's no big deal. As if it's not causing my stomach to twist uncomfortably every time I think of Riddler.

"You know who he is." Bruce says simply. He puts his hand on mine, and my stomach does a turn. (Probably too many pancakes.) "Don't be fooled into thinking you can change him." He gets up and pushes in his chair. "I'll let you sleep through training in the morning. I think you've done enough tonight."

He leaves me alone in the kitchen. I sit there, head spinning.  
He didn't say anything incredibly profound, but it got to me just the same. Do I want to change Riddler? Maybe a little. Just curb a few of those homicidal tendencies. But is that asking too much? I go to bed, head full of doubts and questions, and that weird feeling in my stomach every time I think of Bruce's hand on mine.

* * *

A/N:  
Sorry it's been so long, but here's the new chapter! Shout out to all my lovely reviewers, you guys make my heart feel all warm and fuzzy. For real, you guys rock.  
Let me know what you thought!


	9. Chapter 9

I sleep uneasily, and wake up not feeling particularly well rested. Too many thoughts racing through my head. I take a deep breath and brush them aside, determined not to let myself be distracted. By the time I shower and get dressed, it's almost ten o'clock. Much later than I usually sleep.  
I wander down to the kitchen and find Alfred there, cup of coffee ready and The Gotham Times on the bench.

"Miss Mitchell. I was beginning to wonder whether you were ever coming downstairs." He says, not sounding particularly worried at all.

"Is that your British way of calling me lazy for having a sleep in?" I take a sip of my coffee. Perfectly made, like always. "Where's the master of the house?"

"He's in his office. He'd like you to join him when you're ready." I carry my mug with me, navigating the halls of the manor until I reach Bruce's office. I can hear him talking inside, but when I open the door, he's alone.

"Finally lost it?" I raise one eyebrow at him. He smiles, shaking his head at me.

"Not yet." He jokes. "Belle, come here. It's time you met Oracle." He says, gesturing to the laptop on the desk in front of him.

"Barbara Gordon? No way!" I bound over to stand next to Bruce, grinning widely down at the computer. "You are awesome. It is _so_ great to meet you." A pretty young woman with red hair and blue eyes hidden behind glasses smiles up at me.

"It's good to finally meet you too. I've heard a lot." She says.

"Now that you're working with me, you'll be hearing from Barbara a lot." Bruce explains.

"She should probably meet Dick and Tim soon too. Better than running into each other on patrol." Barbara suggests.

"Wait, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake? Nightwing and Robin? Oh man, this is getting _so_ cool!" I exclaim.

"That is a little strange." Barbara laughs.

"Told you." Bruce mutters. "But you have a point. The last thing we need is Belle and Dick meeting with no one around to referee." I glare at him, making him grin.

"You think I can't behave myself? I'm offended." I cross my arms.

"It's not you I'm worried about. Just wait until you meet him, you'll see what I mean."

"Please, I think I can handle one junior superhero. I've handled worse, remember?" I say, letting a little cockiness colour my tone. After all, I've dealt with Joker. How bad can Batman's offsiders be? Bruce doesn't reply, so I'm pretty sure I've won this.

"Get them both to come over tonight. You as well, if you can. We can all sit down and talk in person." He says to Barbara, and they confirm a time.

I'm only half listening to the rest of their conversation as I look at the photographs lining the walls of the study. I haven't had a chance to look in here properly yet.  
One photograph in particular catches my attention. A young couple, smiling at the camera, with a little boy in between them. I've seen Thomas Wayne before, in the games, but never really studied him before. Bruce bears a strong resemblance to him, except for his eyes. His eyes are from his mother. A sweet looking woman, I can tell she would have been a wonderful mother.  
Behind me, Bruce walks up quietly. I didn't even notice him hanging up with Barbara.

"That was taken a couple of months before they were killed." He says quietly, voice sounding almost reverent.

"You take after your father." I comment. "You all look so happy."

"We were." I peek up at him out of the corner of my eye, and see him staring at photograph.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." I feel guilty.

"It's okay. They're not bad anymore. I don't mind talking about them." He says, and I notice he's looked away from the photo and is looking at me. "How about you?"  
"What do you mean? My mother isn't dead, she's just-"

"A world away." He pauses, and his meaning sinks in.

"That's completely different." I scoff.

"Not really, Belle. I wanted to check on how you're holding up." The concern in his eyes makes my stomach do a flip and I have to look away to break the tension in the room.

"I'm… doing okay, actually. I guess I'm not really homesick or anything yet, and if I do go back home, I'm pretty sure almost no time would have passed, so she won't even know I was gone." I say, feeling a little guilty. I hadn't really thought of home or of Mom a lot since I got here.

"If?"

I look up at him. "If what?"

"You said _if_ you go home. So you're planning to stay?" He asks.

"Well, at this point, yeah I am. I mean, I haven't thought too far ahead, but Gotham is…" I trail off, struggling to find the words. "I can't see myself giving any of this up again. The city, the people…"

"I can think of some people you should give up." Bruce says, voice deep and serious.

"I know you think that. But can't you see this from my perspective? You were with Talia, and her dad is a certified wacko!"

"And we didn't work." He says pointedly.

"Selina Kyle?"

"Didn't work." Bruce raises one eyebrow. "See a pattern?"

I through my arms up, exasperated. "So maybe it doesn't work, but damn it, can't I figure that out on my own? Let me learn a lesson, painful as it may be. Just let _me_ learn it." We're both silent, staring each other down, waiting for the other one to break.

Eventually Bruce sighs. "I hope you know what you're getting into."

I smile at him. "I don't. But that's the point." He finally cracks a smile, even if it doesn't quite look authentic. "So," I say, trying to break the tension. "I get to meet the rest of the super team?"

"You'll come across them around Gotham at some point, given the crowd you run with." Bruce replies wryly.

"Fair point. So, what's the dress code tonight? Do I show up wearing my mask and a cape?"

"Maybe something a little more casual."

"Gotcha. The 'everyday Bruce Wayne' look; a three piece suit."

"If you want, but expect comments from Dick and Tim."

"Back to the drawing board, then."

¿?¿?¿?

I head towards the BatCave that afternoon, intending to get in a bit of a workout before I have to start getting ready to meet the troops.  
When I walk in however, something is different. Next to the case containing Bruce's Batman suit is a second case. I walk over, almost in awe. The black suit is similar to Bruce's but has a yellow bat symbol across the chest and is made for a woman.

"Batgirl." I whisper under my breath. I can see Bruce silently approaching behind me in the reflection on the glass.

"I think Barbara wanted to tell you, but looks like you beat her to it." He says.

"Tell me? Tell me what?" I ask, even though it's pretty obvious. I need to hear him say it.

"To tell you that it's yours if you want it." He walks closer to stand beside me.

"Really? Like, _really?_ "

"Really." He smiles. "You don't have to give me an answer now. You can think-"

"Yes!" I shout, cutting him off. Who would need to think about this?

"I hoped that would be your answer." He says, smiling wider. "Come on, I think Alfred is waiting to hear what you'd say."

"I don't think he likes me very much." I confide.

"Sure he does. His unflappable manner is how he shows affection."

"I don't know about that. I didn't think you liked me very much either when we first met." I say, nudging him with my shoulder. "But I'm almost positive you're starting to warm up to me." I give him a wry smile, but it drops when I see the serious look on his face. "Maybe not?" I backtrack. Bruce opens his mouth to say something, eyes darkening, and suddenly I really need to know what he wants to say.

A crash comes from behind us, somewhere in the mansion, breaking the tension.

Bruce clears his throat. "Sounds like Tim and Dick are here."

Adrenaline floods my system. I should be used to meeting fictional characters by now, but honestly, I don't think I'll ever be casual about it.  
"Oh man."

"You'll be fine." Bruce says, picking up on my sudden anxiety. He puts his hand on my lower back, steering me towards the noise coming from the mansion. Voices get louder until we enter the kitchen, now full of life and noise.

"Bruce! Will you please tell Tim that- hey! New girl!" Tim, Dick and Barbara are in the kitchen, and all their heads snap towards us in the door way at Dick's greeting.

"This is Belle. Belle, I'm sure you know who's who." Bruce introduces us.

"Yeah, I can pick them." I agree, looking in wonder. Barbara is exactly as I'd always pictured her, still looking like a badass in her chair, smiling warmly at me. Tim is standing next to her, one hand on the back of Barbara's chair, face unreadable. And Dick Grayson is sitting at the breakfast bar, his dark hair falling every which way.  
"Hi everyone." I say, suddenly shy. I'm very aware that everyone in this room could drop my ass to the floor in one second flat. I'm standing in a room full of ninjas.

Barbara wheels forward, smiling at me. "It's great to meet you finally, Belle. Your story is so incredible." She says.

"Yeah, _unbelievably_ so." Tim adds. His tone is ominous.

"Tim." Bruce's voice is a warning.

"Yeah yeah." He mumbles, not making eye contact with anyone. I look up at Bruce. Obviously Tim has a problem with me. I can only imagine why.

"Alright!" Dick says loudly, drawing all eyes to him. "This is nice and awkward. Well, Alf says dinner is nearly ready, so shall we move this into the dining room?" He suggests, pointing to the room beside the kitchen. "New girl! Help me with the drinks." I head over to a cupboard where I know the glasses are kept and start pulling wine glasses out while Bruce, Barbara and Tim move into the next room.

"Dude, _what_ did you call Alfred?" I ask, carefully balancing glasses while Dick grabs two bottles of wine.

"Alf. It drives him crazy. Man, he was so happy the day I moved out of the manor." He snorts.

"Bit of a hell raiser?" I ask.

"Almost as good at getting into trouble as you seem to be." He winks. We move into the dining room with the others, so I'm spared having to answer while we pass out glasses and pour drinks.

"What were you two talking about?" Barbara asks, smiling over at Dick and I.

"Just asking new girl how she manages to get into so much trouble." He replies. Damn. I guess I'm not getting out of this conversation.

"Might have something to do with the kind of people she hangs around with." Tim challenges.

Yep. Here it comes.

"Tim." Barbara cautions, but he speaks over her.

"That's what this comes down to, doesn't it? If she wasn't in with the scum of Gotham, Bruce wouldn't need to keep putting his ass on the line to help her." He's speaking to the room, but glares at me the entire time. I look down in shame. He's not wrong. "Why is she here anyway?" He demands. "Have you thought about that?"

"Tim, you've made your opinion on this perfectly clear." Bruce stands up, looking down at Tim. "And we don't need to hear it again now."

This is obviously a conversation that they've had before.  
Tim stands up too, only a few inches shorter than Bruce. The two men are staring daggers at each other.

"Tim, not here." Barbara says again, putting her hand on his. It seems to ground him a little, some of the fire going out of his eyes.

"Hey, here's an idea." Dick interjects, leaning back in his chair. "Why doesn't new girl explain?" He smirks at me. No one speaks, all thinking it over.

"I'm game." I announce. If it'll help ease the tension and get them to trust me, I'll tell them anything.

"Well then," Dick smirks. "Who wants to play twenty questions?"

* * *

 **A/N:** I know this has been a long time coming, sorry for the wait!  
We get to meet the Bat Family! Let me know what you thought!


	10. Chapter 10

We all pick at the dinner Alfred has prepared, before giving up entirely.

"Let's just get this over with." I suggest. My nerves are through the roof, and I know this discussion is going to make or break this whole arrangement.

"Right. Anyone want another drink?" Dick offers, topping his own glass up.

"Can you please be serious." Barbara rolls her eyes. Bruce shoots Dick a look, silencing him. "I have a question." She continues. "How long have you been back in Gotham?"

Oh good. An easy one. "Almost three weeks or so."

"And where have you been staying?" Tim demands, starting me down. I glance around. Everyone in the room knows the answer to this.  
It's a test.

"The last couple of weeks I've been staying here with Bruce." I begin, and everyone waits for me to continue. "And my first night back in Gotham I spent in a homeless shelter." Deep breath, moment of truth. "And the time in between, I spent with Edward… Nygma." I look around the room at everyone's reaction.  
Bruce gives nothing away- after all, none of this is new to him. Barbara and Dick look as if I've just said something disgusting, faces all screwed up like there's a bad smell. And Tim… Tim is looking victorious.

"At least she didn't lie." Barbara says in my defence. Everyone ignores her.

"Because you're in some sort of sick relationship, right?" Tim continues.

"Yes." I force myself to hold his gaze. Looking away would be a sign of submission, and I am not giving in.

"In a relationship with the guy who held you hostage last time you were in Gotham. That's pretty messed up, new girl." Dick interjects.

"A lot has happened since then." I insist. "A lot has changed."

"Tim, can you please get to the point of your interrogation?" Bruce asks sharply. I look up at him, and recognise his 'running out of patience' look. I should recognise it, he gives it to me often enough.

"Fine." Tim replies to the older man, before turning to me. "How much of what you've learnt here are you telling Nygma?"

" _What_?" I exclaim. I knew they might think that, but it's insulting all the same. "Not a damn thing, Drake! Yeah, I may be close with Riddler, but Batman is my _hero._ I've idolised the man since I was ten years old. He is all that is good in this city, completely incorruptible. He's someone people can trust; he gives them something to believe in, and is always succeeding where the police fail! He gives everyone hope. Believe me or not, but I would never, I mean _never_ , help destroy him." I finish, almost breathless.  
At some point I've leapt out of my chair, and I'm standing over the table, shouting down at Tim. His eyes narrow at me.  
Oh crap. I've done it now.

"Yeah! Go new girl, that's what I'm talking about!" Dick whoops, clapping. Even Barbara joins in, laughing. Bruce gently holds my arm and pulls me back down into my chair.  
"Idolise?" He repeats quietly, one eyebrow arched.

"Yeah yeah, don't get a big head about it." I mumble, embarrassed by my outburst.

"Tim? Satisfied?" Bruce asks, looking away from me after a moment. I raise my eyes to meet the other boy's, and after a moment, he nods.

"Yeah. For now, I guess I am." The 'but I'm watching you' goes unsaid.

"Thank God. Now, new girl, pass that bottle." Dick says, earning a disapproving look from Bruce. "What? I'm celebrating. We have a new member."

"Speaking of new member," Barbara says while I pass the nearly empty bottle of wine to Dick. "Did you find my present?"

"I did." I smile at her. "It's really for me? No kidding?" I'm half afraid it's a sick joke.

Barbara smiles softly. "No kidding. I feel like I know you, from everything Bruce has said. And you remind me of another girl Bruce took under his wing, years ago."

"I swear, I'll do my best." I promise her. Dick passes me a full glass, encouraging me to drink up. I do. We empty two bottles, and by the time we all part for the night, we're a little more comfortable with each other. I still don't want to come across Tim with no one else there to mediate, but I'll take it one day at a time.

I slowly walk up the grand staircase towards my bedroom, head spinning a little. I shouldn't have let Dick talk me into a third glass. I can already feel an easy friendship forming between us, and I'd like to get to know Barbara better. I'd always admired her, and knowing her in person only magnifies that.  
I make it to my room and collapse onto the bed, lacking the motivation to get changed out of my clothes. Eventually, I doze off.

¿?

I wake up sometime in the night to kick my shoes and my jeans off, so I'm not too uncomfortable when I wake up again in the morning. I wander down to the kitchen in search of coffee to soothe my slightly pounding head. To my surprise, Dick is sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee and making his way through a huge stack of pancakes.

"Any coffee left?" I ask by way of greeting.

He gestures towards the pot on the counter, mouth too full of pancakes to talk. I get busy pouring myself a cup, adding milk and sugar. After the first few sips, I start to feel a little more human.

"Thought you were never going to get out of bed." He says finally. "Have a nice sleep in?"

"Sleep in?" I exclaim. "It's 6:30 in the morning!"

"Yeah." He says as if stating the obvious. "Bruce doesn't get you up at five?" I shake my head. "Must be going soft in his old age."

"I wouldn't let him hear you say that." I laugh.

"Too late." Bruce enters the room, glaring at Dick. "You'll regret that." He threatens, helping himself to a cup of coffee and leans up against the counter.

"No doubt." Dick replies, but he doesn't sound overly worried.

"So, what's the plan today?" I ask, finishing my coffee, ready to start the day. Bruce looks thoughtful.

"Dick, are you still tracking that arms deal?" He asks after a beat.

"Sure am. Hoping it goes down sometime this week. Sionis has been particularly hard to find this time around." He chews thoughtfully. "New girl. You up for it?"

"Helping you with Sionis? Hell yes!"

"Perfect. I'll take new girl out; see if she can handle herself." He winks at me. "Talk to Tim. I doubt he mentioned it last night, but I think he's onto something big." He says to Bruce before standing up to face me. "Pack your gear, newbie, you're with me today."

I give him a quick salute which makes him laugh and Bruce smile before dashing off to the Batcave. I grab a duffle bag from the cupboard, and carefully put my new Bat Suit in it. I put my mask in on top, and zip up the bag. Running back across the manor, I stick my head around the corner of the kitchen where Bruce and Dick are still talking.

"Hey Boy Wonder, do I have time for a shower?" I ask, dropping my bag near the door.

"Sure. But Tim is Boy Wonder now, not me!" He shouts, but I'm already gone and halfway up the stairs. I take a shower and get dressed in record time. I tie my still damp hair up out of my face and dash back down, coming to a stop in front of Dick, slightly breathless.

"Good to go." I announce.

"Right. Let's move." He grabs my bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "We'll report in tonight and let you know where we're up to." I barely have time to shout a goodbye to Bruce before I'm following Dick out to his car. We drive in silence for a while, listening to the radio, until Dick reaches out and turns it down.

"Look newbie, this is the only time I'm going to say this, so listen up." I sit up a little, attentive. "I don't know what your deal is with The Riddler, and honestly, I don't want to know, but if you screw us over, I'll come for you. Not to mention Tim. And it won't be pretty. Deal?" He says, his tone amiable, but his words send a shiver down my spine.

"Sounds fair." I reply, trying to keep my tone as light as his. "But just so _you_ know, I wouldn't sell Bruce out. Or any of you." I correct. "I meant what I said last night. That man has been my hero for over a decade, and even though he may be an ass in person, he's _still_ my hero." I don't have to fake the sincerity in my voice.

"Well." He seems to be struggling for words. "That's… good." He clears his throat. "Alright, enough emotional confessions of adoration. This is my place." We've stopped outside an unimpressive apartment block. I grab my back out of the back seat and follow him up several flights of stairs. I'm getting winded when we finally stop in front of a door, and Dick lets us in.

"Whoa." I breathe as we walk in, dropping my bag. The apartment block wasn't much to look at outside, but Dick's apartment is immaculate. It's all sleek modern style, dark woods and top of the line appliances throughout the apartment, with a display of weapons on the wall above the large television. And it all looks _expensive_. "Dude, how do you afford this? Crime fighting pays this good?" He snorts.

"Nah. But living with Bruce, I got accustomed to a certain lifestyle." He says, gesturing around. "Technically, I'm an Assistant… something at Wayne Enterprises, and _that_ pays very well." He winks, making me laugh. "Right. Those files on the table are everything I have. Make yourself familiar with the case. I'm going to shower. Don't touch my weapons." With that he stalks off.

I sit down at the large dining table, pulling files towards me and begin to read. Dick comes out of the shower sometime later, sits next to me and grabs a stack of surveillance photos.  
"This is Roman Sionis. I'm sure you're familiar with him." He glances up at me, and I nod in answer. "Well word is he has a big arms deal in the works. And if he gets this stuff, he'll put it straight out on the streets. Hand guns, semi automatics, full automatics, RPGs, the works. Gang violence will spike, along with other gun crime, it's just a mess. Better to stop it at Sionis." I nod in agreement.

"Good plan. Do you know who he's buying the guns from?" It may not be important, but I'm interested.

"A contact of his in Bludhaven. I've traced it to Sionis in Gotham, thought I'd give Bruce a hand with it." He shrugs. "Not that it matters. The guns are in the city, and Sionis gets his hands on them this week sometime. I just have to narrow down the when and where."

"And how are we going to find that out?"

"With some not so gentle persuasion of Sionis's men." He replies with a grin that makes me glad he's not after me. "The stack of files to your left is all the profiles I have on known associates of Sionis. Make yourself familiar with all of them, enough that you'd recognise them by sight. I'll take you out with me tonight, if you think you're ready for it?"

I only think about it for a beat. "I am so ready for it!" This is what I've been waiting for. A chance to get out on the streets, to prove to Bruce and everyone that I can be a hero too.

"Alright newbie. Start going through those files, I'll get the coffee going." He pushes his chair back and stands up.

"I'm on it. Out of curiosity, when do you plan on actually calling me by name? It's Belle, by the way."

"I know your name, newbie. And I'll keep calling new girl until you're not the new girl anymore." He says, not bothering to look up while he makes the coffee.

"And when do I stop being the new girl?" I ask, exasperated.

"Well, Tim was the new guy before you…" He trails off, focusing on not spilling the coffees as he brings the mugs over to the table.

"How long did it take for you to start calling him by name?" I prompt when I realise he isn't going to keep talking.

"Well you got here yesterday, so… yesterday." He grins. I roll my eyes at him.

"Great. So I'm new girl until someone else joins the team." I clarify.

"Yep. So get used to it, new girl. Now, pass me some of those profiles. I need to brush up on some faces myself."

* * *

 **A/N:** Another update? I know, I was shocked too! Let me know your thoughts!


	11. Chapter 11

By the time the sun sets, I'm pretty confident I can pick any of Sionis's men out of a crowd.

"Dude, you have to stop making coffee." I say as Dick pours me another cup.

"You said that hours ago but you just keep drinking them." He replies, calmly sipping his own cup, swinging his legs up onto the table.

"Yeah but now my hands are shaking so bad I can hardly hold these files still enough to read." I reply, holding up one trembling hand as a demonstration.

"Hmm. Maybe you _should_ ease up on the caffeine." He agrees, swiping my cup of coffee and pouring it into his own cup. "We should probably head out soon. Sionis has reopened the old Steel Mill he used to own, and uses it as a base of operations on that side of Gotham. That's probably our best bet on finding someone to interrogate."

"And you think one of these guys will just tell us about the arms deal?"

"Here's hoping." Dick says, raising his cup before draining it. "Time to suit up, new girl!" He jumps to his feet, making a beeline for what I assume is the bedroom. I grab my duffle bag and lock myself into the first room I find, which turns out to be a second bedroom.

Once dressed, I study myself in the full length mirror on the wall. I'm overcome by the strange sensation of not recognising my own reflection. In front of me is a woman, hair pushed back by the mask, eyes fierce underneath the cowl, looking intimidating in the black armour. She looks strong, and fearless.  
She doesn't look like me at all.

I'm drawn out of my reflection by Dick pounding on the door. "You going to take much longer in there? Bad guys to interrogate, remember?"

"Keep your shirt on, I'm coming." I grumble, swinging the door open. Dick is standing there, all decked out in his Nightwing gear. "Dude. You look badass." I compliment.

"What, this old thing?" He waves a hand at me, grinning. "I could get used to you telling me how good I look all the time."

"Don't bother; I won't be saying it again." I poke my tongue out at him. "Come on, didn't you say something about bad guys? Let's go!"

¿?

Dick holds a finger up to his lips, telling me to keep quiet. The rooftop we're perched on gives us an unobstructed view of the back entrance to Sionis's steel mill. Voices float up to us from the five men standing in the dark, smoking.

"Nah man, I'm telling you, Bludhaven is way nicer than Gotham. Better people, better bars, better schools-"

"Better schools? Man, who the hell cares about schools?"

"I the hell do! My kid starts next year."

"What, you're gonna leave Sionis, leave Gotham, and go straight in Bludhaven?"

"Hell no. But maybe the misses and my girl live in Bludhaven."

Such normal conversations. It throws me for a moment.

"Can you imagine? Break a few knee caps, and then head home to tuck in the kid." They all laugh. I roll my eyes. That sounds more like the thugs I remember from my last visit. I point towards the man closest to the door or the mill, just putting out his cigarette.

"There. That's Jackson Mayne." I whisper to Dick.

"Good eye." He approves. "Next to him is Andy Owens. Recognise him?"

I nod. "Five against two. Think we can do it?" My stomach churns.

"Sure can, new girl. You got those batons I gave you?" He asks. I unsheathe the two batons on my belt, flicking them out to their full length. Adrenaline courses through my body, and suddenly, I am _so_ ready for this. "Well, follow me!" Dick drops down silently to the fire escape balcony below. I jump down, slightly less gracefully, and land beside him. We scale down either side of the escape, pausing at the bottom. Dick raises an eyebrow, silently asking if I'm ready. I smile at him, and we drop loudly.

"Evening, gentlemen." Dick greets loudly while we stroll over towards the group of men. "We need information. Who wants to give it to us?"

In lieu of a response, one of the men charged Dick, who promptly dropped him to the ground.

"That looked like a no, Nightwing." I remark. "Maybe one of these other men can help?" I look around, twirling the baton in my right hand. One man makes a move towards me and in three quick steps I'm standing in front of him.  
Before he can speak I hit out and land a direct hit in his side making him double over. My next shot hits his head- sending him to the ground, groaning and disorientated.

That opened the flood gates, with the remaining three men all charging at once. I end up trading blows with Mayne, a six foot man built like a line backer.  
We dance around each other for a while both trying to land hits, and both succeeding to some degree. I get a lucky hit, striking Mayne in the mouth. He spits out blood and turns back to me with a new fire in his eyes.  
He lands several good shots to my midsection, leaving me winded. The next hit sends me sprawling to the pavement. Mayne approaches me menacingly and in a panic I kick out, sweeping his feet out from under him. We grapple on the pavement for a few moments but I finally get the upper hand enough to land a solid knock to his temple. He rolls to the side, limp.

Panting, I climb to my feet. Dick is standing there watching me with his eyebrows raised. Andy Owens is passed out at his feet.

"You alright there, new girl?" He questions. I smile wryly.

"I managed. Which one are you going to interrogate?"

"We'll try this one." He says, kicking Owens gently. Owens stirs, groaning. "Get up." He growls, pulling Owens up by the collar. "We've got questions."

"Not sayin' nothin' to no one." Owens swears at us, spitting at Dick.

"Wanna bet?" Dick asks darkly. He punches Owens in the stomach, making him double over in pain. "It'd be easier on you to just tell us what we want to know." Another punch to the face and I hear a sickening _crack_. Owens's nose is broken. "Sionis has an arms deal going down. Tell me where and when, and the pain stops."

"Couldn't tell ya, even if I wanted to." Owens says thickly, blood gushing from his nose. "Sionis has been real tight on this deal. No one's talking about it." He spits out a mouthful of blood.

Dick and I exchange looks. Owens seems to be telling the truth. Dick swears and clocks Owens across the head, knocking him into unconsciousness.

"Well. That was kind of a bust. Want to wake up Mayne and see if he knows anything?" I ask.

"Not sure it's worth it. What Owens said makes sense. If Sionis is playing this one close to the chest it would explain why he's been so hard to track this time." Dick looks thoughtful. "We might need to go higher up the food chain, aim for some of Sionis's right hand men."

Mayne begins to stir behind us.

"Hey. You know anything about an arms deal?" I ask the semi conscious man. He groans in response. A swift kick in the head sends him back into unconsciousness. Dick raises an eyebrow at me. "What? I took it as a no." I shrug.

¿?

After Dick drives me back to Wayne Manor, Bruce spends some time patching me up. Split lip, bruises covering my entire torso and cuts across my cheekbone.

"Did you put up any defence, or just stand there like a punching bag?" Bruce asks, smirking slightly.

"Hey, you should see the other guy." I quip, then wince when Bruce dabs at the cut under my eye. "How come you never come home looking like this?"

"Practise." He finishes cleaning my face and puts the medical kit away. "I suggest a cold shower to ease the bruising you're going to have."

"I am so sore already, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to crawl up the stairs." I whine. Bruce gets a playful glint in his eye, and before I can say anything he swoops me up into his arms, bridal style, making me squeal.

"Put me down!" I laugh as Bruce climbs the staircase. "Let me go, Batjerk!"

"Batjerk is a new one." He chuckles and tosses me down onto my bed. "There. Now you don't need to walk up the stairs. Batman saves another citizen."

"More like Bruce Wayne kidnaps helpless victim." I retort. "I knew there was a dark side to this whole hero thing." I can't deny it was much easier than climbing the staircase though.

Bruce appraises my room and I'm suddenly self conscious of the mess. I have semi-clean clothes draped over the chairs in the reading nook in the corner. There are not-so-clean clothes in a pile next to the bathroom door. One shoe is at the end of the bed, and the other is nowhere to be found. I'm almost positive he's going to reprimand me about the state of the room, but to my surprise, he doesn't. Instead, he leans closer and reaches out, almost as if to touch my face, before he drops his hand and steps back. He walks away, stopping at the door to say goodnight before disappearing down the hallway.

"Good night." I say, too late for him hear, and flop back down on the bed, groaning.  
It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep.

¿?

"New girl…" A voice whispers at the edge of my consciousness. "New girl… Hey! New girl!" I open my eyes, startled, and am greeted by Dick Grayson grinning down at me.

"Argh!" I shout, jumping out of bed and promptly falling onto my face at his feet.

"That was amazing. No really, your grace astounds me." Dick stands there laughing at me.

"Shut up Grayson. Why are you in my room? At the crack of dawn? _Without_ coffee?" I demand, pulling myself up, wincing. Definitely feeling tender today.

"I let you sleep till six. That's hardly the crack of dawn." He says. "And your coffee is down in the kitchen. I was afraid if I bought it up here you'd drink it and just roll over and go back to sleep."

"Smart move." I mutter, finally standing.

"I'll be in the kitchen. If you're not down in four minutes, I'm coming back up here and pouring the coffee on your head." He saunters out of the room, closing the door behind him. Knowing him, he will follow through with his threat. With glee.

With that thought in mind I drag myself out of bed and through a cold shower, hoping to wake myself up a little. Every muscle in my body is crying out after the beating it took last night.

"Suck it up." I tell my reflection in the bathroom mirror. "If everyone else can do it, so can I." With that resolution in mind, I finally get dressed and make an appearance in the kitchen.

"Cutting it close, new girl." Dick chides, handing me a cup of steaming coffee. "This almost went on your head."

"I'd make you regret it." I threaten in return, taking a sip. The taste instantly improves my mood.

"You really think you could take me on? Think you could beat all this?" He asks, gesturing to himself and flexing.

"With both hands tied behind her back." Bruce quips, entering the room. "I'll be around tonight if you two need help." He adds.

"We should have it handled, right new girl?"

"Right. Nightwing and Batgirl, off to save the city." I reply, feeling much more confident now I've had coffee. Bruce smiles.

"Good to know. Let me know if you get into trouble." I give him a mocking salute, and he shakes his head at me.

"Seriously Grayson, why the hell am I up at this hour of the morning? I only just went to bed!" I complain once Bruce has left the kitchen.

"Because I just got in, and while you were catching up on your beauty sleep, I happened to run into Jimmy Doyle. Thought you might want to know." The name rings a bell.

"That's Sionis's top guy right?" Dick nods in confirmation. "And you interrogated him without me? Harsh move, Grayson."

"When I say 'happen to run into,' I mean that very literally. He was getting out of a cab when I passed him on my way home. It was fate!" He shrugged. "So I made an executive decision and got the information then and there. And considering there's an active warrant out for his arrest, I also took the liberty of dropping him off at the GCPD."

I consider this for a moment. I may not have been there for the action, but at least it's another bad guy off the streets. "Good job, Nightwing. You're a hero." I applaud, while Dick takes several exaggerated bows to an imaginary audience. "When you're finished with your invisible adoring fans, maybe you could tell me what Doyle said?"

"Two days time." He says, and I feel a pang of nervousness. "Loads of security and Sionis himself will be there. He's not leaving this deal to his underlings."

"Right. So we're going to need Bruce and Tim as backup?" I'm not really looking forward to having to work with Tim.

"Without a doubt. We'll need them."

"What are we doing tonight?"

"Scoping out the drop point. Making sure we get the best vantage points for the deal, as well as looking for any possible escape routes." A thought occurs to me.

"Are you sure Doyle didn't lie about the date? What if just you and I show up tonight and the deal is already happening?"

"I'm certain he wasn't lying." Dick says with a smile so sinister I'm glad I wasn't there to see the interrogation.

"Right. Well as fascinating as that information was, I am going back to bed. I need more sleep or I'm going to be falling asleep on a rooftop tonight."

"Sweet dreams princess." Dick winks, and I head back up to my room. The temporary buzz I had from the coffee is wearing off and its all I can do to climb back under the blankets before nodding off.

* * *

 **A/N:** Another overdue update! Thank you to everyone who posts such lovely reviews, I read them all and they mean so much. You guys keep my motivation high.

Let me know what you thought!


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